


Fantasy

by SmutWithPlot



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: All of Overwatch is a #McHanzo cockblock, Ana is a wicked wicked woman, Jesse is bi, Jesse just needs to be smacked around sometimes, M/M, Pink Hanzo, Slow Burn, lots of teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-05-18
Packaged: 2018-11-01 01:15:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 38,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10911312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmutWithPlot/pseuds/SmutWithPlot
Summary: Jesse McCree is known for being handsome and charming. Even if he's not the prettiest pony in the stables, he has his endearments. Newcomer Hanzo Shimada keeps catching his eye... Just at really inopportune moments. It's becoming troublesome.





	1. Have You Been Told?

**Author's Note:**

> So first off, this 'game' is one I was recently introduced to, and I know there are folks of you out there that will take all manner of offense to it, but it's just my style - everyone deserves to be told on the daily, and that little extra "And..." just personalizes it to prove you're really paying attention. But hey, I'm an improv guy. I treat it like an improv game, with the added flirty bonus.

"Have you been told today?"

It's a game I've been playing for years. An old barfly taught it to me, and I've modified and tweaked it over the years.

I slide over a glass of orange juice to Ana Amari, a woman old enough to be my mother, and in many respects, she almost is. But not enough of them to keep her from my charms.

She beams instantly, laughing into the drink. "No, I have not." The slippered toe slipping out of her knee dances with the soft dancing of beads.

"Would you like to be told?" I purred.

"I would love to be told," she answered, her eyes glittering with the kind of mischief that makes her very not my mother.

"Honey. You. Are fucking gorgeous. And..." I pause for effect as she giggles. "Would you like me to go on?"

"Oh, absolutely." She pops a grape in her mouth.

"And, those silks look absolutely scrumptious." I teasingly bite at her, eyes on the lavendar silk wrap she's wearing as a top. She giggles again, and I smile.

"He's not wrong," Lena adds, sing-song, practically skipping in. "Can I've a coffee, mate?"

She sits at the bar, and the hopeful glimmer in her eyes means she wants a dose.

"One coffee, comin' right up."

Everyone seems to know that, if I'm in the kitchen, I am happy to dance and twirl about as if it were my own cafe. Only Reinhardt can rival my culinary hospitality. If only German food were less pickled, my stomach lovingly protests.

I deposit her favourite mug, full of black gold. "Sugar?"

"Mm, two today. And a dollop of milk."

I fetch her the sugar bowl and pop open the carton. "Say when." She does, and I top it. And then I smile, hands on the top of the jug. "So. Have you been told today?"

She blushes, but her smile brightens. "Gee, love, sure haven't."

"Would you like to be told?"

"All about it, darling," she answered, stirring her coffee.

"Baby," I say again. "You. Are fucking gorgeous. And..." I gave her a wink. "You look as sweet as that coffee right there."

"Awww..." she says, looking to Ana.

Ana laughs. "See, it's always my hips. And he loves the purple on me. But you - it's always 'sweet' or 'lovely'..."

She hummed as she sipped her coffee. "One time he said my eyes were as beautiful as the sun shining on the sea..."

She snorted. "Week after he had a holiday in Mexico, right?"

They both giggle, and I smile as well.

"I think it's perfectly wonderful. All that 'Southern Hospitality' people go on about. Makes this place feel like home..."

Behind them, Shimada the senior slipped into the room, quiet as a ghost and took a seat at the bar, watching the others. Lena jumped slightly, having not heard him.

"Oh! 'Ello, luv," she chirped. And then she pouted. "You look like rubbish. Jesse, be a chap, get this poor fellow a cup of coffee."

I moved to do so, but he waved his hand.

"No no... I do not drink coffee. Thank you." He eyed Ana's glass. "But juice would be good."

"We got OJ, AJ, pinepple and..." I frowned. "Cran... Cran-raspberry." I looked to him. "What's your pick?"

"Erm..." He looked to Ana again. "Orange?"

"OJ it is." I fetched the drink.

"I can't believe there's pineapple juice in there," Ana musee, and I smirked at her mischeivous grin.

"You behave yourself," I warned. She blew a kiss, and I winked right back. Hanzo Shimada watched us, still uncomfortable around so many strangers, but trying. I caught his eye before I asked, "Anything to eat, darlin'?"

"Ahh... Perhaps. I need to wake up first."

I nodded and slid him the glass. "Say. Have you been told today?"

He blinked at me, not understanding. He looked to the girls, watching with anticipation, and then to me. "Told?"

I nodded. "Have you been told today?" I repeated in a kind, patient voice.

"Say 'no'," Ana whispered, hand to her mouth.

"Buggerin' 'ell, you can say 'yes', he'll still do it," said Lena, giggling.

He realised it was a joke of some kind... and looked to me, curious. "No."

"Would you like to be told?" I purred.

He stared at me, mouth open, and looked to the girls. They both nodded furiously. Lena gesturing with a hand for him to roll with it.

He grinned at me. "Yes."

I leaned on one elbow, jutting out a hip and put a wrist there in the mostly queenly fashion I could summon, and I put the drawl on extra thick. " _Honey_. You. Are. Fucking. _Gorgeous_." I pointedly looked him up and down, from wide eyes and dropped jaw to taut muscles hiding under his tee, the ornate inking of his dragons peeking at me under his sleeve. "And..." I stopped. "Would you like me to go on?"

He did not look to the girls, but gave a subtle nod, the same kind of darkness in his eyes Ana liked to give me from time to time.

I smirked, and leaned closer. "Those tattoos are _really_  hot." I even reached over a finger to shut his jaw for him, and the girls burst out laughing.

"Oh my god, his face!" Ana said, beaming.

Lena leaned on her shoulder and clutched her chest. "Ye god! Jesse, I think you just turned him. What's his brother gonna think?"

"I don't know whatch y'all talkin' 'bout," I answered, strutting around the kitchen as I replace the juice and check the eggs I was cooking.

Ana groaned. "Makes you wanna go over there and just... Mmf!" I looked to see her gesture with a wide slapping motion and I grinned devilishly.

"Woman, you're old enough to be my mother," I teased.

"That won't stop me," she answered. Then she looked at Hanzo, and leaned around Lena to squeeze his arm. "Hey. Didn't mean to put you on the spot, Hanzo. That's just Jesse."

"Yeah, he's sweet on everyone," Lena said. "Make ya feel better! If it's not yer cuppa, just let him know, he'll stop."

"Yeah, like with Torbjorn..."

They both cackle, and I roll my eyes. "You two are trouble." I look to him, and he looks... shell-shocked. Fingers white knuckled around his glass of juice. "Hey, Shimada." He looks up at me with the eyes of something caught in the headlights. "How do you like your eggs?"

"Uh..." He blinked, and swallowed. "However."

"Ooh, have you ever had chorizo and eggs?" Ana asked him.

"I don't know if we have chorizo, but I can look," I said, sliding two eggs, over easy, still a little wiggly, right onto a plate with a short stack of pancakes, _chewy_  bacon instead of the crispy, and toast. I passed it over to Lena.

"Oi!" she said. "No beans?"

"No black pudding, no bangers, no tea... Whoever did the food run forgot to hit the European market," I say with dry apathy.

She frowned. "That narrows it down..."

Ana giggled. I checked the fridge... and dug in a drawer. "Actually."

"Oh my god, if you make him some, get me a smidge. On the side."

He looks up with a raised eyebrow. "That has pork in it, you know."

She pursed her lips. "Allah knows. Allah forgives. When in Rome, eat pasta. When the cowboy is cooking, eat Southwest."

I couldn't argue with that. "Alright... How 'bout it, Hanzo? You like it spicy?"

The eyes that looked up at me went darker. "How do they say... However you dish it out, I will take it."

"...Well, alright, then." I started another half dozen eggs to scramble, and did the seasonings like I liked.

"Last call!" I teased. No one answered. "Cos I'm about to pull out mah damned seasoned skillet."

Ana made a sound that was indecent. "Give it to me! I want it!" She even teasingly made grabby hands in my direction and Lena laughed.

But it was Hanzo's dark eyes watching me that gave me pause. They gave me chills, like ice rats clawing down my spine. Like he was undressing me with his eyes...

I didn't expect it. If I had... Maybe I wouldn't have put it on so thick.

Bah! That's a lie. I wouldn't have done anything different, even had I known. Though I might have said a different compliment.

I made toast and asked his preference for bacon as I tossed the chorizo and scramble, and topped off his drink. His eyes stared into mine. They spooked me. Not in a bad way, but spooked nonetheless. I wasn't sure what to do with it. I added a handful of fresh grapes to the plates as well, and when the eggs were ready, I cut off a piece for Ana, and served two plates - one for him, and one for me.

I slid him fork and knife, and his fingers touched mine. I swallowed, and returned to my own plate.

Ana made another indecent noise. "Jesse. Marry me."

I chuckled, giving her a lopsided grin over my own coffee cup. "I think your husband would have somethin' to say about that."

"He doesn't have to know! Jesse! You assume too much."

I shook my head at her as I took a bite of toast. "I should'na toldja."

"But I live for it, ibn," she answered.

"Jesse, I don't see how you don't come every night with someone clawed to your shoulders, the way you sweet talk" Lena said, grinning. "Torbjorn excepted."

"Hey, I worked hard on that one, and it went mightily unappreciated. Genji scoffs, Jack just tells me to shut the hell up. Even Doc gets all flustered, she doesn't know what to do with me."

Lena gasped. "Oh my god. I would love to watch you do that to Doc."

"She told me to stop or she'd have to file a formal complaint."

"What a spoil sport!" Ana declared. "Ibn, you can tell me again instead, alright?"

I leaned towards her, chin in one hand. "Alright. Have you been told today?"

"I _have_..."

"Would you like to be told again?"

"Mm, I'd love it."

"Baby. You are fucking _gorgeous_. And I love the unseemly noises you make over my cooking."

She made another indecent moan, and I parroted back one.

"I cannot with you two," Lena scoffed.

"Oi. Cowboy."

I looked up in surprise to Hanzo, a piece of toast in one hand.

"Yes, Hanzo?" I asked.

"Have you been told today?"

The girls blinked. They looked to me, and then to him.

"I've never seen this happen before," Ana whispered.

"Me neither," Lena hissed, entranced. "Don't know why I never thought of it meself!"

I cleared my throat, and I'm sure I blushed. I fiddled with my food and my footing.

 _...Did not expect that_. I tried to keep an even face as I looked up at him. "I have not."

"Would you like to be told?" The purr he used did bad things to me. As in, wonderful things, but terrible, naughty, _bad_  things. I felt something below flip in delighted surprise.

"Um... Sure. Why not?" I swallowed my last bite with a cup of coffee, and looked up at him.

"Cowboy," he said, a little sway and swagger to his own shoulders, his eyes dark and teasing. "You. Are fucking _gorgeous_. And..." He stopped, a devilish grin on his lips. "Shall I go on?"

"Please," I answered, feeling it resonate on my throat. I could feel that shiver again, and with it a glowing warmth from the compliment. I had forgotten how good it felt to receive...

"And," he continued. "Your ass looks amazing in those jeans."

I made as if to look for myself. "Well, boy howdy! Thank ya, darlin'. It's nice to be noticed."

"That's a pretty solid answer," Lena agreed nodding approvingly.

"It is a really nice arse," Ana added with a purr.

"Ana. I'm cuttin' you off. You got all out of control on me. Adultress slut."

Lena let out a whoop of laughter, and Ana just gave me a cheesy grin.

"Oh, ibn, that was when I was in my 20s. Now I'm the cradle-robbing slut."

"Oh, I gotcha..." I moved to the kitchen sink and wet my fingers before tossing a splash of cool water at her. She squealed as I spoke the sign of the cross over her in Latin.

"Oh, I'm melting!" she teased, leaning back. Lena was turning red from laughing so hard.

"You're a _sacriligeous_  slut is what you are," I added. "Yer givin' a bad example to the youth."

"Pfft! What youth? Shimada's as old as you are, and this one cracked a quarter century already."

"Oi!"

"What, and being old enough to buy you drinks makes us not youth? I am oh-fended."

"If I can legally fuck you, then yes," she answered with a devilish grin.

"Now, see, I know some places where you can marry long before you can drink... Terrifying places. Where second cousins still breed."

"Hey, my marriage was arranged! I missed the fun of courtship. I have to catch up now."

"Oh... Damn." I had to stop at that one. " _Damn_."

"Ho ho!" Ana announced, fists in the air, victorious. "I got one!"

"Hehehe! You got him speechless!"

I shook my head, and humbly clasped my hands together. "Lord, please help Ana Amari. She needs yer grace somethin' fierce. Lustin' after the youth, forsakin' her husband, making sexy noises over breakfast..."

"Eating bacon," she added.

"...Eatin' bacon. All manner of uncleanness." The girls giggled, and I looked to Shimada, who had already polished off half his plate and was watching me. "Don't hang out with this one. She'll turn you rotten. Lord knows what she's done to me over the years..."

"Like save your ass and teach you how to shoot..."

I reach up to tip an imaginary hat. "A-thank-ya."

"Is it always so PG-13 in here?" Shimada asked.

"Not always," Ana answered with a shrug.

"Just when her and me are in the room together."

"Or Lucio..."

"Fuckin' Lucio."

"Or my daughter."

"Who is _just_  as wicked as she is, I should warn ya."

He nodded, her eyes flitting from her to me. "I do not see you being innocent, cowboy."

I blinked at that. He just came right on out with that, didn't he?

Ana laughed, pointing at me. "Hahaha! Shimada gets you, too! Oh, look out, Lena. Genji's brother's not a talker, but when he does, look out. He's going to be the anti-McCree."

 _The anti-McCree_. Something in me liked the sound of that.

"...Now, see, Ana, you got me lookin' bad in front of the new guy," I said, gesturing a hand to Hanzo, but not looking at him. I couldn't. Not with the way those eyes burned at me.

"But he said you looked good in the jeans, 'cowboy'!" she replied. "What? Can't take it when you dish it out?"

Lena mimed a bow and arrow, and shot me with it.

I tossed back a shoulder, hand going to the phantom arrow, and I stumbled back. "See what you done now? I'm a goner." I swooned, and the girls laughed. I even heard a reluctant chuckle from Hanzo. I let out a sound of effort, and broke the arrow, 'crying out'. "Help meh! Doc! Hanzo! Lucio! Some pony!" I stumbled back, my crowd still laughing, and Ana muttered a shit comment in Arabic as she mimed throwing me aid.

"Big cry baby."

I expertly catch it and shove in an adrenaline shot to my chest with a 'tttch!' and sighed. "...Better."

"And then I shoot you!" Ana added, aiming finger guns at me and making shoot noises.

"I got his gun!" Lena declared, miming pulling my gun from her side pocket. "It's hiiigh noooon..." She pretended to aim, and took six shots at me, all of which hit as I jerked.

"They've all turned on meh!"

"You have been surrounded, cowboy," Hanzo added, his voice extra broken in accent, and if I wasn't mistaken, his lips chattered on like a bad dub job. He, too, raised his bow to strike, and they all looked to each other... and shot me at once.

I slumped to the ground and made an undignified, and unattractive sound and they all laughed.

"Well, at least I got a last batch of chorizo and eggs before the old dog was put down..."

"Yeah, right shame. He was a decent shot."

" _Decent shot_ ," I hiss.

"Alas, poor McCree," Hanzo said quietly. "I knew him, Horatio."

"Aw! Hanzo knows some Shakespeare!"

"British home boy, Billy S.! Bard representin' the mother land!"

I laughed as I brought myself up. "Lord, Lena, don't talk like that, ya give me a head ache."

"Right? Sound like Lady Sovereign. 'I'm officially the biggest midget in the game! I dunno.'"

I downed my juice, and checked everyone else. "Coffee, Lena?"

"Would love it!"

"Ana?"

"A tall glass of you would be nice..."

I chuckled. "Hanzo?"

I looked up at him, his eyes lingering somewhere that wasn't my face, and they flit up to my eyes.

I smirk. _I saw that_.

His eyes narrow. _You saw nothing_. "Juice for me as well."

I gave Ana hers and took his. I looked up again. Trying to figure him out...

If we were alone, I might have outright asked him his sexual preference, just to be sure. I felt it would end up a joke if I said it now.

I gave him the glass, and tore away my gaze.

Just not the right time for such a conversation.


	2. Ammunition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genji and McCree talk a little shop and a little samurai at the shooting range. Gets McCree's mind a-wondering.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If the FBI come and take me away because I googled the price of a 50 cal, just know that I loved you and I was willing to do whatever it took to make this work.
> 
> Also, a little foreshadowing for 'spaghetti westerns'. Because that's totally a thing.

"Shimada! Hit me up!"

I danced in under the ringing of cease fire, and snagged an open slot on the range. I looked over at Genji who regarded me... Some kind of way. It's hard to tell with the mask on. I raised a brow, noting how he didn't move. And his eyes pointedly looked to the side.

There was a Shimada over there alright. I keep forgetting there's two of them now.

"Well, hell. That works, too."

I watched a range target come on for Lena at 250 yards.

"How far?" Shimada the elder asked me.

"Alllll the way back," I answered, dropping my big black duffle on the table. I looked up at him with a smile. He only nodded with a small bow, and put it into the computer.

Shimada the younger looked back at me. "So. You met Hanzo."

"I seen him around," I say, nodding. "He seems alright. Quiet, though."

"Heh. You are used to Ana smack-talking you all the time. And Lena."

I glanced out of the corner of my eye and she gave him a well-intentioned glare.

I shrugged. "He's very..." I paused a moment, trying to find the word. "...Zen."

He sniggered. "Oh, he's got the whole still-as-pond thing going for him, but he's pretty gnarly once you get to know him."

"Introverted type?"

Above us, the bell rang. Genji nodded. "Something like that."

I pulled out my sniper rifle, and set to setting her up as the firing went off. It was like music to my ears. Banging, pounding, popping, zapping, definitely-gonna-take-your-hearing-away music. Like the projectile equivalent of a really good concert.

I fiddled with the aim, until I got her into focus, and then I locked her into place. I pulled out my ammo and loaded her up.

I had just settled in for a shot, my finger ready to squeeze when the bell rang again.

I sighed. "Damn." The watcher called ceasefire and I stepped away from my gun, clapping my hands together and rubbing them in anticipation.

Genji chuckled. "You look like you haven't shot in days."

"I haven't," I answered, grinning. "Four to be exact. Been stuck on watch and debrief and a supply run... It's not as fun to shoot by yourself. Unless you really need the quiet." I cleared my throat. "That's usually a bad sign for me."

"Understood," Genji said.

I looked up at Hanzo... and I swear to you, he was watching me.

"...How long you said it's been? You and your brother?"

He looked up as well, and Hanzo's eyes wandered over the range, setting in new scores and sending more out.

"Oh... Years. 10 since..." He looked to me. "Why?"

I wondered if Genji was the kind of guy who would know the answer to that question, if it was the way I thought it was. Or how he would feel about being asked it.

"...Just thinkin'."

He laughed. "That's dangerous. A thinking McCree."

"Don't you know it." I like to think we were sharing grins, under that mask. The bell rang again, and I stepped forward with a pleased sigh. I rested my eye on the scope, shifting her a smidge to the left. Braced against my shoulder, finger off the trigger, inhale...

Finger on, exhale and squeeze.

_POP._

I reloaded. Adjusted... _POP_.

Maybe a smidge higher... _POP_.

The bell rang, and I smirked.

"Well, hell yeah," I said, rising. I waved to Shimada the archer to bring the target closer. Genji was just going for kill shots, his bots were replaced. But my damned target was soaring from 1000 yards, and took a good minute to get to me.

"Show off!" Lena hollered at me.

I chuckled. "Don't be hatin', girl. I'm an old man. My feelings get sensitive. And I got a _gun_."

She rolled her eyes, and Genji stood with me, arms crossed. It felt like he was being chummy with me.

"Not too bad, 'old man'," he said.

"Yeah, the first one went wide, saw it bounce off the ground. Then I did this one down here, and pulled her up..." I leaned back and gave Hanzo a thumbs up so he could send it back. "I know she twists a bit to the left." I looked up. "But there's always wind to take into account."

"And bullet shape and gun type and the gunner's mood at the time..." I snickered. "Jesse, you go into this way more than I do. I just know we have hours to meet and accuracy goals to upkeep. But I prefer my shuriken over my blasters, any day."

"Well, that's, like, your opinion, man," I answered, and we both chuckled.

"You would have way better luck talking to my brother about that kind of thing. He was always the better shot."

"He shoots guns?" I asked.

Even without seeing his eyes roll, that head tilt told me. "We were Yakuza, Jesse-san. Of course we shot guns."

 _That is true_. "But... he likes the arrow?"

"I don't know. You know, it's funny. It's kind of like how you are, all cowboy and old guns? He is the same, but with samurai. He used to use swords more. But now... He likes his distance. So he uses the arrow instead."

The bell rang again, and I paused a moment, looking up at him.

 _He is the same_ , rang through my head.

And then I shook it out and sat down to my gun. I had promised myself to waste away the price of a fine meal in bullets today. Maybe two. I could think about Hanzo Shimada later.


	3. Shibari

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I tug at my hat. "You usually drop that into casual conversations?"  
> The smile he gives me is very evil looking. Not in the I'm-gonna-shit-my-pants-they're-gonna-eat-me evil, but in a decidedly mischievous Snidley Whiplash sort of way. "It was topical. As you say, shibari is... incredibly useful."  
> "And damn pretty," I said. I'm still trying to gauge him... "So the question is. Are you usually the one getting tied up, or the one doing the tying?"  
> His chuckle is so quiet, I only catch a tiny hint of air from his nose. "Not many people have the audacity to tie up a Shimada," he answers.  
> I chew on that... "That's not much of an answer."  
> "It is not," he agrees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My AppleDash is showing. Parallels between samurai and cowboys are the dish the day, and I realized rope play is one of those things. Having work a shibari corset myself once or thrice (...it feels really amazing. Listening to the squeak of the rope with every movement, knowing that no one knows you're wearing it except for you and your Master...) ...sorry, getting all nostalgic. BUT! When I went to apply it, I ended up imagining Hanzo wearing it, and I wondered if it made sense that Jesse would know the skill. And I figure... He probably knows a little. For fun tiems. And also that Genji is a cock block in the worst way.
> 
> Oh. And I bullshitted the name bit with Lucio. Just because I think it's fucking funny that certain hispanics have 8 names. And Lucio's just famous enough that people recognise him, but not so much that everyone does.

"Hey, McCree!"

I stopped mid-step and turned. A bashful looking Lucio waved me down. "Mornin'. What can I do you for?"

"Hey, ah... Reinhardt and I were getting some stuff ready for a drop later. We were supposed to do the bindings -- well, he was going to do the bindings, I was going to help -- but he had to run off for something. Could I get your help?"

"Well, of course!" I grinned. "Ain't done rope work in a while. Let's see whatcha got there."

It wasn't a complicated rigging, or even a terribly big package, just unweildy for one. Lucio and I got the ropes started, binding it all together and catching loose spots where it could be more secure. I was climbing on top to do the hook when I saw - not heard - Hanzo Shimada come up.

"Howdy there, Hanzo!" I called. Lucio turned in surprise.

"Hey! Hi, nice to meet you!" Lucio completely abandoned me to greet the other man, holding out a hand. Hanzo took it, guarded. "Lucio. Lucio Roberto Marcos Alejandro Correia dos Santos Rodriguez. But you can call me Lucio." He laughed.

I snorted up top. _Full name and all_. He waited for the off chance that Hanzo was a fan... There was a glimmer of recognition, but no excitement.

"Ah... Hanzo Shimada," he answered. "Usually I say, 'call me Shimada', but there is two of us now." His eyes look up to me. "McCree-san." He nodded.

I did the same, tipping my hat. "How's yer day goin' so far?"

"It goes well." He stepped forward. "I was told there was rope tying needed doing. But I see you are already taking care of it."

"Well, you want knots tied, askin' the cowboy seems a reasonable thought."

Lucio laughed. "Yeah, I caught him on my way down here. Jesse's nothing but helpful."

"I see." His eyes were watching me with that edge to them... I don't know why it made me nervous.

"Hand me that hook, will you?"

Lucio turned to grab it, and I caught the barest twist of a smirk on Hanzo's lips as he winked at me.

It caught me for a moment. Enough to barely have the damned hook clock me upside the head.

"Jesus, Luc!" I hollered, barely catching my footing and the hook. "Little warnin'?!"

Lucio laughed. "Sorry!"

"Klutz," I chided. I looped the rope, not looking down at those dark eyes... They were going to sabotage me.

"So, you know knots, too?" Lucio asked. I glanced down again, now that his focus wasn't on me.

"I have dabbled," Hanzo replied. "Hair knots..." He tugged lightly at his own ribbons. "Belt knots..." He tugged at the ribbon around his waist. "Jug knots." He tapped a hand on his bottle, hanging at one hip. It swayed along side him, all silk rope and no metal bits, keeping him quiet. Much unlike myself. I looked down, tugging at the rope to make sure it was good and tight. "A little shibari here and there, that kind of thing."

I looked up at that, and his eyes caught me sideways, with just that trace of something on his lips.

"Hot damn," I said, unable to stop myself. I finished off the knot and clambered down. "I know a little shibari myself."

"What's a shibari?" Lucio asked, blissfully ignorant.

I chuckled to myself, knowing that slip could have gone a lot different if it had been someone else. "Traditional Japanese rope-tying technique. Incredibly useful. And it can be damn pretty."

"Oh! Like those red knotted good luck charms? The bookmarks?"

I bit my tongue, and clapped a hand to the young man's shoulder. "Those are Chinese. But yeah! That sort of thing."

"Cool! Could you teach me some time? I bet Hana would dig that."

I gave a nervous chuckle, and Hanzo looked away to hide his smile. "I think, um..." I squeezed his shoulder. "I think you should Google that first." I waved a warning finger. "With the filter on. 'K?"

His head tilted to one side, but he filed that away. "Alright."

"Now. You got another one, or we good?"

"Oh! No, that was it." He smiled. "Just had to be done in the next couple hours or so."

"Excellent." I clapped him on the back. "Now, I was headed for lunch." I give him a tip of the hat. "I'll see y'all later."

I hear Hanzo say something gently to Lucio, and then I feel his eyes on my back. I don't hurry, reaching the door and turning to see him right behind me. I open it, and gesture for him to go first. He gives me a small smile and nods.

"Arigatou," he says. He, too, slows his steps to wait for me. "You know shibari?"

I tug at my hat. "You usually drop that into casual conversations?"

The smile he gives me is very evil looking. Not in the I'm-gonna-shit-my-pants-they're-gonna-eat-me evil, but in a decidedly mischievous Snidley Whiplash sort of way. "It was topical. As you say, shibari is... incredibly useful."

"And damn pretty," I said. I'm still trying to gauge him... "So the question is. Are you usually the one getting tied up, or the one doing the tying?"

His chuckle is so quiet, I only catch a tiny hint of air from his nose. "Not many people have the audacity to tie up a Shimada," he answers.

I chew on that... "That's not much of an answer."

"It is not," he agrees. And then the fucker _winks_  at me, and I stop at the threshold of the galley, where Torbjorn has caught Angela in an update on his offspring, Genji is in the kitchen, and little Amari is assiting.

Genji sees his brother. "Ah! Hanzo. Did you find him?"

"Hai," he answers, stealing a sit at the bar. "But McCree-san was already helping."

I gave myself a calming breath and strode in after him.

"Ah, Jesse! Got suckered into roping, eh?"

"You say suckered," I answer, stretching out my arms. "I say work out. I might not be able to scale walls like this one," I added, thumbing to Hanzo, "But I can climb a package if I have to. Makes me feel young again."

Genji snickered. "Whatever lie you have to tell yourself."

I gave him a rude gesture. "Who's cookin'?" I asked.

He nodded to Amari. "She is. I'm doing drinks. What can I get for you?"

"Do we have some of that iced jasmine tea left?" Hanzo asked.

"Of course, Oniisan. No one is going to drink that but you. Maybe me. Maybe Lena."

"All the better for me." And he turned to smile at me.

Damn bastard. I want to say he is, but I can't know for sure.

"Shit, I did man work, I need a beer," I said.

Fareeha burst out in giggles at the stove. Genji looked at me with a gesture that even now I could tell was chiding.

"Sorry, cowboy. No beer in the fridge."

"Well, gosh. What are y'all good for?" I answered. "Shit, give me what he's having." I nodded to Hanzo, whose eyes widened just a smidge. "I gotta see what the hell he thinks is better than coffee."

Hanzo shook slightly in a quiet chuckle, and Genji laughed as well.

"I should have expected you two to get on. Opposites attract and all."

He could have slapped me in the face. I looked to Hanzo, whose eyes darted away from me. I didn't want to look to into it, but... Well, hell. There it was. Tempting me. Testing me.

I realised I still had my hat on. I cleared my throat and took it off, fingers slicking through my mess of a mop in a semblance of decency. I felt Hanzo's eyes on me again.

"Hey, Fareeha!"

"Yes, Khalu?"

"What the hell you makin' for me over there anyway?"

"I am boiling hot dogs."

I dropped my jaw, turning to Genji. "You got her makin' hot dogs?"

He snorted. "I don't eat. Reinhardt was supposed to do lunch today. Something came up. We got here 20 minutes ago, and spent ten of that trying to figure out what to do until people started showing up."

I sighed. "That's a damned travesty."

"We are out of curry powder," she added, giving me a smile.

"Go ahead and tell me Reinhardt was in charge of the supply run next."

She giggles, and Genji slides us two tall glasses of something that is the prettiest pinkish-purple... I swear, it looks like a bartender's drink.

"The hell is this?"

"Iced jasmine. Hanzo makes it."

I look to him and he sips, smiling softly.

I raise a brow then look back to the ninja. "This better taste as good as it looks."

And I take a sip. It's... floral. But not in the chewing-on-grass kind of way most tea is. It's like sipping on a very pretty flower garden, a light sweetness that takes away the green and leaves only the color. It's also damn cold and incredibly refreshing. Like a sweet iced tea after a long day of hard work.

I pop it back on the counter staring at it. "Hot damn. You found a tea I like."

"That is impressive," Fareeha says. "I only found him a chai tea he liked once. And he killed it with milk and sugar."

"If I want bitter, I drink coffee. I want spicy, I drink apple cider. Y'all go crazy with your tea shit."

She slides me a plate just the way I like - dogs, chili, onions, cheese. Even some jalapenos in there.

I blow her a kiss. "Darlin'. Have you been told today?"

Genji mutters in Japanese, but Fareeha brightens. "No! I have not!" She bats her lashes at me. "Tell it to me, papa!"

I chuckle. "Don't call me that." I lean back and crick my neck. She comes back to us with a plate for Hanzo, but her sparkling eyes are for me. "Baby. You. Are fucking gorgeous."

She cooed, preening.

"And..." I gave her a decided look up and down. "Yer mama makes some damned pretty babies."

She giggles. "Jesse, you are too much."

For good measure, I turn to Genji. "Hey, Genji! You been told today?" He flips me off, and I sigh. "Fine. Your armor ain't that shiny anyway." He snorts.

And then I look to Hanzo, his lips smiling. "How about you? You been told today?"

He shakes his head. "No, I have not."

"Don't do it," Genji warns. "It's stupid."

"Oh, he already knows," I said, waving at the ninja, but keeping my eye on the samurai. "Would you like to be told?"

"I would like it, yes," he says gently. Genji looks up.

I lean close. "Baby. You are fucking gorgeous. And..." I tap a finger on his nose. "I'd love to tie you up some time."

His face went PURPLE, eyes wide, and mouth dropped. He looked to his brother, and so did I.

Genji's arms were wide, and his voice indignant as he said something in Japanese. Hanzo protested back, hands waving. I'm pretty sure I heard 'shibari' in there somewhere.

"That got R-rated really quickly," Fareeha noted, waving at herself.

I couldn't help but snicker at the chaos I had wrought... I took another sip of my drink, and actually, this might make an interesting compliment to my spicy.

"McCree, I swear, you are asking for a sexual harassment lawsuit!" I heard Angela warn me from the other side of the room.

I turned in my chair, waving a finger. "Hey! I ask if they want to hear it. They say yes, that's consent!"

Torbjorn is cackling, clapping hands on his knees.

I turn back and Genji is in front of my face. "Do not say such things to my brother!"

"Hey, it's just a complim--"

"It is disrespectful!" he says, finger in my face. "Do not say such things to my Oniisan! I do not want to fight you, but this is serious."

I hold my hands up. "Now, hold on, there!" I say. "It's just a joke! I know you don't joke that way, but hell. Let a man have his fun."

"Your fun will get you killed!" he warned.

"I wasn't talkin' 'bout me," I said.

His visor switched to Hanzo, and my eyes flitted also. Hanzo's head was down, looking at no one, curled in on himself.

God, I wanted to hug him. He looked like he was in pain.

"Look. You don't like the game, that's fine," I said, gentle. "Not everyone does. But for some people, it's the highlight of their day. I don't say that to make myself feel better neither, it's the truth."

"It is disrespectful!"

"On the _contrary_. We were just talkin' 'bout it on the way here. And _you_  weren't there for context. Joke weren't meant for you. It was for him. You don't like it, that's fine. But don't steal his joy because it makes you itchy inside."

The visor turned to Hanzo. There was a question. And a tense, even-toned answer. A growl of sorts from Genji as he looked to me. "You need to be more respectful."

"You need a sense of humour," I answered. I grabbed my damn hat and set it on my head. "Thank you, Ree Ree." I grabbed my plate in one hand, and my drink with the other.

"And you, Hanzo."

I felt his eyes on me as I stomped out of the room.

I dropped my plate and drink on the table, and punched at the door mechanism, really wishing I had a door to slam right now. Fucking Genji. That answered one question. If the answer was yes, there was no way Genji would know about it. Or if he did, he was in denial. Which put a whole new spin on Hanzo's darkness.

With family like that, there was a good chance that part of him was locked away because of 'respect' and 'honor'. Which is a damned shame. What other wickedness was trapped away behind a cage of duty?


	4. Pink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Both of these are similar," she said. And she held out to me two cases of cookies. "I don't know which one it is he likes."  
> I pointed to the one on the left. "That one. I remember him giving Angela a hell of a hug when she got the right ones. I remember the orange wrapping."  
> She beamed, dropping it in. I inched the cart forward as she went to put it back, but as she stood again, she spotted something. "Ooh! Wow, he said pink. No kidding."  
> She turned to me, flashing a bag of candy that made Barbie look subtle.  
> "Good lord." She tossed it in. "The hell is that?"  
> "/Lychee/ candy," she said. "Apparently it's Hanzo's favourite."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very special shout out to NedStark's absolutely addictive as FUCK little "modern courtship" fanfic which, quite frankly, can never be updated often enough for my taste, and she does it almost daily. Alas, I figured taking Hanzo out with McCree so early would A.) defeat the purpose of a slow build and B.) seem like I stole it from her, SO I GAVE YOU A PESTERING HANA INSTEAD. ENJOY.

"You alright there?"

I looked up, distracted. "Hmm?"

Hana gave me a smile. "You look like you're someplace else?"

"Mm. Yeah, I guess."

I put my eyes back on the road, and I heard the click of her seat belt. I looked up to see her worming closer.

"Girl, you don't get back in that seat, I will brake check ya, and you won't like it."

She ignored me, scooping up the crate that was in the passenger seat and tossing it to the back. I traded my vision for the road and behind me and to her, anxious. I felt a breath caught in my chest until she plopped down and clicked back in.

"Don't do that," I said, waving a finger in her direction. "Last thing I need is you distractin' me and we get in an accident. That ride of yours is pretty, but pink just ain't my colour."

She giggled. "Aw, and I thought you'd like her. Maybe I'll give it to Genji."

I snort. "Yeah, sure. When pigs fly."

"Hmm... Or maybe his brother, Hanzo. Bring him up to the high tech world."

My smile faded, and I looked to her.

Her face was one of evil delight.

"AHA! It's Hanzo, isn't it?"

I rolled my eyes, and tugged at my hat. "What are you on about, little one?"

"You've been a grump for days," she said. "I watched you waltz up to the shooting gallery, see who was in it, and stomp right back out, grumbling to yourself. Saw you do it at lunch once, too. You're avoiding someone. And word around is, you got into a fight with the Shimadas a few days ago. Left lunch in a huff."

I eyed her sideways. "Yeah, right. Like you figured all that out all by yourself."

She shrugged. "Okay, no. But Fareeha talks. And she's worried about you."

I considered that. "...She said that?"

"Well, not in so many words," she confessed. "She said that you and Genji usually grump at each other, but that's the first time he's threatened you."

I chewed on that. It wasn't the first time, but... He at least usually did it in private. "That might be an exaggeration."

" _Still_ ," she insisted. "You have Ree Ree bothered enough that she vents at me. And unlike Fareeha, I don't keep things like that to myself." She fiddled with her phone as she did so, a smug smirk on her lips. "So... Tell me what's on your mind."

I shook my head. When I saw the little gamer girl had signed on, I had figured she'd had too much tv for one day and needed some fresh air.

How naive was I.

"Child, did you really sign up to help with a supply run just so you could get the hot gossip?"

"Yep!"

I laughed. "Well, golly. Didn't think you'd be so upfront about it." I turned the car into the parking lot of the international grocer's, a first stop. "Please tell you at least got the list that I asked you for."

"Of course I did," she answered. "I even asked each of the Shimadas for something the other liked so you could curry favour."

I put it into park and glared at her. "You didn't."

"I did." She smiled at me, a coy, mischievous thing.

I narrowed my eyes at her. "Alright, fine. What did they want?"

"Genji told me Hanzo's favourite brand of sake, tea and candy. Hanzo told me which almond cookies and wasabi peas were his favourite."

"Is that right?"

She nodded. "I also asked Reinhardt for Angela's favourite, since I think she's grumpy at you too."

I chuckled. "You're mischievous." I nodded for her. "Let's go."

We made our way through the produce first, snagging some fresh jack fruit to snack on as we shopped. As I glanced over the list, there was a special order on... quail eggs.

"That's a new one," I murmured.

"Probably Hanzo, then," she said. "I've never had quail eggs before."

"Me neither." We paused through the cold food. "And your damned kimchi."

"You love it, don't lie," she said.

"I liked it better before I knew how you made it." We kept on. "See, when the natives buried fish in holes in the ground, it was meant to feed the _corn_. They don't come back six months later to dig it up and eat it."

"Because whiskey is...?"

"Liquor. We know it's liquor, we treat it like liquor. We don't slather it on our hamburgers and stir it in our potato salad."

She snickered, finding a case of chai milk drinks for little Amari. "You know, these are pretty good."

"Only way I drink chai tea," I agreed. "Still not my favourite."

"And some..." She frowned. "Ly-chee ramen? Ra-mun-e. The hell is that?"

"Beats me."

"It's under drinks..." She scoped out the section, eyes flitting back and forth. She was wearing a cute little white tank top with some cartoon character I didn't recognise, and green khakis. Flip flops with pretty little flowers on them, and a matching hair band in her hair. She definitely looked like a nineteen year-old. I couldn't get past that.

And I laughed, remembering a joke I'd heard once.

"Why you laughing at me?" she complained, pouting real big.

"Not laughing at you, laughing at me," I told her, leaning on the cart. "Just an old joke. Americans don't go to places like this unless they have an escort. Most of us don't know how to find anything in all this foreign on our own."

"As the Korean looks for the strange drink, haha," she answered, smiling. "Wait!" She stooped at a bunch of brightly coloured drinks. "Ra-mun-e!" She picked one up and turned it around. "Ha! It's Japanese."

"Probably the new Shimada," I said.

"Yeah... Look like fizzy juice drinks... Strawberry... Mango... Coconut? My goodness. And a ly-- OH! Lychee!" She laughed, grabbing one. It looked like a much more child-friendly beer bottle. "I have seen Lychee spelt three different ways, I didn't realise..."

"Alright, I'll bite. What the hell's a lychee?"

"It's a fruit!" she said. "Like asian pear. Not something you see on the other side of the world. It is sweet, puckersome. Like, um... Hm. Strawberry-ish?"

"...You are a gifted wordsmith, truly." She made a face, and added a six-pack.

I picked one up to read the label, a bright orange and red label in native kanji and a white label, reading 'Ramune drink', and the picture of a decidedly-terrifying looking, bright pink fruit. "This thing looks like a sea urchin."

She giggled. "It does, kind of."

We made our way down the list, a spicy curry bun ordered double. And a few other things I recognised. Spices for Ana, allspice, curry paste. And then... the teas.

"Alrighty. Let's see if we can find this unicorn."

"It's a golden tin... with jasmine."

"Golden tin. Right." We each picked a side of the aisle. I caught something that looked promising, a square-ish tin wrapped in a gold curry sort of colour, with black flowers and printing. I turned it about, and it read JASMINE TEA. "Well, here we go." And it wasn't even expensive. I held it up to her.

She gave me a thumbs up. "And Lena wanted something, too."

"Yeah, she wants the Twinings. Can't find it here, we've got the European market to come, too." I sighed. "Full of fancy mustards and incomprehensible sausages..."

She giggled. "'And don't get the American Twinings, either,'" she said, putting on a terrible cockney and waving a finger.

"'You Yanks water everything down, even the chocolates,'" I added. "I made the mistake of buying her Cadbury for her birthday once. She was not amused."

We both laugh. "Seems like everyone has their weird tastes." She dropped the assam and chai spices for the Amaris. We move on to the candy aisle.

As a rule, I like the candy aisle. It's full of pretty colours and strange, exotic cookies and candies and bars and weirdness that you can't help but wonder about. Some of them make no sense to me (shrimp chips come immediately to mind), but I know people think me putting jalapenos and ranch on every thing is weird, so I don't pay it much mind. I wonder sometimes at buying a new thing, but I tell myself to let someone else spend $6 on a bag of novelty treats just in case I don't like it. Seems wasteful if it goes in the trash. I grabbed a few bags of nori maki (which Genji and Hana liked to fight over) and a box of Hello Panda for Mei. Those were also damned tasty, and I regret stealing from her. Now I know why she hoardes them. Hana came back to me, frowning.

"Both of these are similar," she said. And she held out to me two cases of cookies. "I don't know which one it is he likes."

I pointed to the one on the left. "That one. I remember him giving Angela a hell of a hug when she got the right ones. I remember the orange wrapping."

She beamed, dropping it in. I inched the cart forward as she went to put it back, but as she stood again, she spotted something. "Ooh! Wow, he said pink. No kidding."

She turned to me, flashing a bag of candy that made Barbie look subtle.

"Good lord." She tossed it in. "The hell is that?"

" _Lychee_  candy," she said. "Apparently it's Hanzo's favourite."

I frowned. "Like the drink?"

"Yep!" She found Genji's wasabi peas and added that as well. "So now we just need his sake and everyone's happy."

"Now, darlin'. Much as I like to curry favour, you know the rule. No alcohol on supply runs."

"So pay for it separate," she teased.

"Right. Let me do that. At CostCo. Where I can buy my whiskey in bulk. I don't think so."

"Up to you..." She snickered at me, and I threw a piece of jack fruit peel at her.

"Troublesome monkey."

"Actually, I'm a tiger, but also not Chinese. Doesn't count."

We worked our way through the rest of the store, picking up some plantanes and yams and a few other things. A big old bottle of sriracha for me. Stopped by the frozen goods for buns and wrappers and more. When we got to the cash register, she poked about at the keychains, and then gestured grandly at the selection of sake.

"Child..."

"Come ooooon!" She gestured again.

"Do you even _like_  sake?"

"That's not the point!"

I shook my head and finished buying the groceries. She helped me load them into the truck (having a metal arm comes in handy when you're lugging cases of food, and glitchy though it may be, Torbjorn's cooler was working today) and we moved on to the next location.

"So what's next?"

"Probably the European market. Before they close."

She hummed. And for a couple of blocks, she was quiet. Didn't stop her eyes from watching me, nor me trying not to look back at them. My patience for little girls and their pressing curiousities had its limits.

But eventually, it just couldn't be left well enough alone. "Why didn't you buy the sake?"

 _Fucking children,_  I muttered to myself. Everything was a game to them. They didn't know how to leave well enough alone. I scowled, fists clenching on the wheel. "Child, there are rules! I am not about to lose my job over rice wine."

She snorted. "Oh please. Like they would fire you over something like that."

I looked at her sideways. "Maybe not. But I don't want to risk it."

Her raised eyebrow did not believe me. "You think it's too desperate, don't you?"

I might have been a little too forceful on the break there. I worked my jaw and huffed out my nose, looking up at the red light.

"...You really are worried about him, aren't you?" There was a taste of trepidation in her voice that suggested she might realise this was a tender subject to broach, and yet youthful arrogance and bravado meant she would try anyway for the sake of glory.

I glared to my right. "There's a reason I leave you in the back."

"Because I'm distracting?" She bat her lashes at me. _Reckless_. At least Fareeha knew when to take a hint and leave me be.

"I'm tryin'a drive." My fingers tap at the edges of the wheel, the metal ones making a dull clung that was just unattractive to listen to.

"Be honest with me, Jesse," she said, turning in her seat. "What's the deal?"

"Not to be unkind, Hana, but you really haven't known me long enough to call me by my first name."

It was unkind, I know. And I know I stomped my boot hard enough for the spurs to jangle when I switched gears. But she took my stone cold expression to heart at last and, blessedly, she didn't press anymore.

We were curt and professional the rest of the trip. To shut her up (and stop all of her silent glaring), I did stop at a liquor store after everything was done, armed with a little cash and her picture of the preferred label, and bought a bottle of sake as requested. But I stashed it in the back of my truck in the brown bag it came in, a bottle of whiskey tucked alongside.


	5. Donuts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Wot? Jesse McCree's not cookin'?"  
> "Allah forbid," Ana answered her. "The world has gone mad."  
> "You know I can hear you two." I deposited the boxes on the counter, feeling old beyond my years. I flipped on the coffee pot that I had filled earlier. I listened to it bristle to life as I sorted the boxes out.  
> "Ibn, I am concerned," Ana said. "This isn't like you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...I blame my roomie for this one. He works at Circle K and brought home some outdated donut holes that I am shamelessly munching on for breakfast.

I wasn't feeling like cooking. But chore charts are nothing to take lightly.

I knew that certain persons liked to be up at 7 in the morning for brekkie, while others would lounge in as late as 11. The latter would usually be satisfied with cereal and bagels, but the former had high demands. Usually I took to such with gusto, being up at 6 dicing potatoes and scrambling eggs and frying up bacon a couple different ways. I might slip out to grab more juice or eggs or something before I started cooking if we were out, so me being not-in-the kitchen at a quarter to 7 wasn't terribly strange. But when I walked in, a tower of white boxes in hand, there were two faces looking at me in alarm.

"Wot? Jesse McCree's not cookin'?"

"Allah forbid," Ana answered her. "The world has gone mad."

"You know I can hear you two." I deposited the boxes on the counter, feeling old beyond my years. I flipped on the coffee pot that I had filled earlier. I listened to it bristle to life as I sorted the boxes out.

"Ibn, I am concerned," Ana said. "This isn't like you."

I looked over at her with a raised brow. "What? Man can't be too hung over to cook?"

Lena about choked on the glass of apple juice she'd made for herself. Ana's eyes went wide. "Ibn, you cook _best_  when you're hungover! What are you on about?"

I shook my head. Although some eggs and potatoes and cheese and bacon broken up in it all sounded amazing... I just didn't want to. "I got you breakfast. Be chill."

"And Lucio has breakfast Thursday... We'll have nothing but sweets all week."

"Well, an' Reinhardt. Mind you, he can make some bangin' bangers."

I produced for them a box of glazed treats, colourful one with pink icing and rainbow sprinkles, some a custard filled chocolate topped, others powdered and guaranteed to give Ziegler a heart attack... "Here."

It didn't stop them from picking one and munching down. I felt, more than heard (because he's sneaky as fuck) Hanzo Shimada slip into the room.

"Ahh... Donuts."

"Ibn! Welcome, Hanzo. Eat with us." She put on an air of disapproval. "Apparently Jesse is not up to his usual hospitality."

As if to demonstrate, I did not answer her, pausing the pot's drip to pour myself a cup. I put it back and sipped, staring into the corner.

"Mm. What are our options?"

"Well... We got regular glaze... Ice glaze. These... look like pudding."

"Ibn, what kind of powdered did you get?"

I sighed, turning around to lean back on the counter. "Bavarian and raspberry." I sipped. "Though I think there's a blueberry in there too."

"Jesse, can I have a cup of coffee, please?"

I leaned over to fetch her a cup and filled it. I marched over with it, leaving it black how she liked. I looked to Lena, who toasted her still half-full glass, and then I looked at Hanzo.

There was a look of dashed hopefulness in his eyes. One of the ridiculous pink donuts was clutched in two fingers. He watched me, waiting for a question.

"Well? Drink?"

The flash of disappointment wasn't missed. "Tea. Please."

I moved to the fridge, finding his jug of jasmine. As promised, it hadn't been touched but by him. I had thought about it, but couldn't bring myself to do it. I returned it to him, and then went back to my corner.

The girls were only as quiet as they could be. "Jesse, next time you do this, you need to bring me a cinnamon bun or something. Or a bear claw."

"Ooh, yeah..."

I shook my head into my coffee. _I've given everyone such high expectations..._

"Excuse me..." I don't know why his voice cuts through the air so sharply. "But what is... Bavarian?"

"It's a pudding, luv."

"Mm! And these ones, here. They call them Boston Creme. Is the same thing, it's like vanilla pudding. But these are glaze with chocolate."

"Aha... Fascinating."

I don't know why it makes my teeth grind. They're just fucking _donuts_.

"Ibn..." Ana calls. "Are you not going to eat with us?"

I growl to myself. "I'm not much in the mood for sweets."

She scoffed. "Well, you picked them! Do not tell me you do not want to eat what you yourself bought, do not tell me you do not eat! I will come over there and shove one of these things down your throat myself!"

I met her eyes, and she is _angry_. She was one of those few people who could keep me in line... I took a breath and moved towards them.

"That's right. Because you know I'll smash you with a raspberry powder just to make a mess of you."

I smirk, even if I don't really feel it. Just to spite her threat, I grab a raspberry-filled powdered one. I pointedly take a bite. "Happy?" I ask, mouth still full of donut.

She clutches her coffee, eyeing me. "No. But is better."

I turn to go back to my corner.

"Ibn!" she chides again. "Get your ass over here!" She cursed under her breath. "I am surprised at you."

"I'm just gettin' coffee," I mutter. I keep on, and I top off my cup. I put the pot back and come back, knowing she'll just cause me more trouble if I don't.

We've another long moment as I chomp the damned thing down. I'm on the last bite, swallowing it down with my coffee, when she reaches forward and tugs at my shirt.

I gulp, surprised, and lean into her.

"[What the hell is your problem?]" she growls at me in Spanish.

I blink as if I don't know what she's on about. " _No se?_ "

"[Don't give me 'I don't know'. You've been a rotten bastard for a good week now. Fareeha is worried about you, and so am I. Don't think I didn't hear about you being a pendejo (here Lena almost laughs into her cup) to Hana the other day. There's a stick up your ass and I will rip it out for you if you don't watch it.]"

I swallow hard. "[Yes, mama]."

She uses her other hand to slap me. Not hard as she has in the past, but not a gentle, playful thing either. She shoves me away, muttering in Spanish. I try to give her a gentle smile, but she just glares at me.

I glance at Hanzo, who is looking pink as he nibbles on his donut. Then I look at Lena.

"So, you don't know _bastardo_ , but you do know _pendejo_."

"I don't know nothin'," she answered, sipping her drink. "Wos that mean?"

"It means _bastard_ ," Ana said. "He's being a rotten bastard!" She looks to Hanzo, who looks terrified she'll turn on him. "He's not always like this, I promise."

He tries a shy smile. His eyes meet mine for a moment, but I break away.

"If y'all are contented..." I say, refilling my coffee mug. "I'm going back to bed."

"Don't make me come kick your ass!" Ana hollers after me.

I sigh to myself as I turn the corner. I stop. I should just... _talk_  to him. Or maybe Ana. Get out of this funk I'm in...

"He really isn't like this all the time," I hear Ana assure Hanzo again. "That last time, all jokes and sweet things? That's the Jesse McCree I love. This one has something stuck up his ass. It makes him all grumpy."

"I'll be honest, grumpy McCree is a bit terrifying."

"I know! But that's why I'm here, ah? I put him in his place! Gabriel used to knock him around real good, but now it's just me." She sighed. I debated leaving before she said anything else more embarrassing. "I don't know what's gotten into him."

"Perhaps... It is my doing."

My heart squeezes, painfully. I drown it in a gulp of coffee, and I make myself move.

"Nonsense, ibn. Even if that were true, it's up to him to fix it. He's dragging his feet about it, and that's his own fault."

It's all I can do to not smash the half a mug of coffee against a wall as I storm off to somewhere not here.


	6. Burden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "McCree-san?"
> 
> I sighed. Ah hell. I turned, and there was Hanzo Shimada. Fingers clutching at his kimono, arms hiding within.
> 
> "What do you want?" I asked, turning back to the supplies I was hauling. I had an order to fill and a gallery to restock, and then I had to rearrange everything for the shipment due later today. Just another something important I'd been putting off to the last second.
> 
> "I... Feel as if we should talk."
> 
> I slid another case of ammo onto my shoulder, giving him an unkind smile. "Really? Whatever about?" I dropped it into the truck and turned for another.
> 
> "I... I am not exactly sure."
> 
> "Well. This should be an interesting conversation, then."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Jesse tries to find things to do that keep him away from other people because he don't like people right now, only for the one person he wants to see, but is avoiding, comes to find /him/. Life is complicated.
> 
> AND COCK BLOCK! Gotta love it.

"McCree-san?"

I sighed. _Ah hell_. I turned, and there was Hanzo Shimada. Fingers clutching at his kimono, arms hiding within.

"What do you want?" I asked, turning back to the supplies I was hauling. I had an order to fill and a gallery to restock, and then I had to rearrange everything for the shipment due later today. Just another something important I'd been putting off to the last second.

"I... Feel as if we should talk."

I slid another case of ammo onto my shoulder, giving him an unkind smile. "Really? Whatever about?" I dropped it into the truck and turned for another.

"I... I am not exactly sure."

"Well. This should be an interesting conversation, then." I had the cruel thought that I probably looked mighty scary, big burly man hauling unreasonable payloads and slamming them on the truck. Well, not slamming them. I don't want to break anything. But these things could endure some manhandling. Like when I'm pissed off.

I caught him swallow, and shift his feet. _Good_. He was nervous.

"I... Feel as if you are angry with me."

I let out a humourless laugh. "What gave you that idea?" It actually wasn't all that accurate, but I'm not in the habit of giving away intel just because someone is prying for it.

"Well... You and I were getting along at first. And then... There was the breakfast. I seem to make you uneasy. And then the issue with my brother..."

My lips were in a hard line. _Uneasy is one word for it_. I don't meet his eyes as I move the load.

He stepped closer, some bravery being summoned. "I do not wish to be... a cause of discomfort for you." I caught his eye for the sparest of moments, seeing the honest openness in them, and turned away before he could see anything in mine. "We are... team mates. I wish us to be... good with each other."

I scoffed. "That sounds like Genji."

This sideways glance, I caught his head down. It makes me pause a step.

"I asked him for advice," he said, softly. "He knew you well." He looked up at me, and I braced myself. "Ana says it is something you must do in your own time. The two conflict."

I look away. But I am stomping less as I grab the next piece of cargo. "Hanzo..." I drop it with a grunt, and I stop, metal hand on the edge of the truck bed. "Believe me. It ain't you." I looked at him sideways, and I saw relief in his eyes. I looked away. "I mean... Not just you. Anyway." I rubbed the back of my neck. "Look, I ain't the best at talkin'..."

He smiled, a sad thing. "I am not either."

I sighed, fingers tapping at the bed. "Look." I looked up at him, and he did. He met my eyes, patient, and maybe hopeful. I put my hand to my chest, and I sighed again. "See, I'm the kind of guy... Who is sweet on everybody. You saw that, right?"

He nods. "Yes. 'Have you been told?'" And damn it all, if he don't have the prettiest, sweetest smile.

It made my heart ache. "Well..." I scratched at the back of my head, wishing my hat wasn't still in the front seat. "Some folks don't take too kindly to that kind of... sweetness. Your brother being one of them." I swung to the load again, but I kept my face over my shoulder. "Ain't just menfolk, either. Angela is convinced I'm askin' fer trouble. Hana is just... too young, it feels creepy." I took the next package with a grunt. "But when I find someone who likes it... It makes my day a little brighter, and it makes their day a little brighter." I dropped the load, and climbed up to get into the bed. In the distance, I could see someone... Reinhardt, I think. I waved, he waved back. I bent over to start rearranging things. "You... Really liked it." I gave him a gentle smile. I watched him blush and turn away. It broke my heart. "So when someone like you... Who probably ain't never heard a kind word like that in his life." I saw him watch me from the corner of his eye. "...Gets a helpin' of Southern sweetness, you go nuts about it. You want more of it. And I'd be happy to oblige, but..." I sighed, leaning a stack. "But then Genji shows up. Or Angela or Jack..." I made a face. "Or Torbjorn..."

He laughed gently. "See, now I am curious what that means."

I smile. "Don't worry about it. It's stupid."

For a long moment we share a smile... Just a smile. But I can't help how leans into me. How he wants to hear more. I see how starved he is for the kind of affection I have, and it hurts me. I turn and hop off the truck.

"...It just hurts me. I'm tryin' to do you a kindness and others ruin it." I pull a load off, and onto my shoulder. "It hurts me more than you can know." I felt his eyes on me as I dropped the package, and climbed up to add it to the stack."

"Perhaps..." I turn to him, and he is chewing on it. "Perhaps the problem then... Is not us."

I don't want to think about how wonderful 'us' sounds.

"...It is other people, surrounding us." He looks up at me, and I do think he understands.

I spread my arms with a bow of my head. "You got it."

I hop off the truck bed, and yeah - it was Reinhardt.

"Afternoon, gentlemen!" he greets with a big grin. "Need a hand with that?"

"Iffen ya like," I say. Ten minutes ago I would have told him to fuck off. I liked my quiet weight lifting to blow off steam. But now... A lot of it is gone. I let Reinhardt start the load, and I take a step aside, beckoning Hanzo to follow me. He does, without blinking.

I run my fingers through my hair, wishing I had my hat. I give him a shy smile. "You been told today?"

He bites his lip to hide the grin, but his cheeks are bright pink, his eyes glittering at me. "No."

"Baby..." I say softly. "You. Are fucking _gorgeous_. And..."

He nods pre-emptively, and there is the softest sound of a giggle he doesn't let escape his throat.

"You have the prettiest smile I ever did see." I click my tongue as I wink at him, finger gun and all.

He sways side to side, and his pony tail dances behind him. "Cowboy. Have you been told today?"

 _I should've expected that_. "I have not."

"Baby," he says. And the spin his accent does on it is just glorious. "You are /fucking/ gorgeous. And..."

I really like it when he says 'fucking'. Especially the way he gets quieter for just that one word, like he knows he shouldn't say it, but he does it anyway. I gesture for him to continue.

"You were really yummy to watch putting up those boxes."

I'm surprised. I was thinking I was scary looking. "Really now?"

He goes as if to roll his eyes and shrugs. The lazy smile and simmering heat in his eyes isn't the full on lust that he gave me before, and yet it still makes my heart go in my throat a bit. I wonder if my eyes look the same.

I tug at his beard. "You are a cutie."

He is surprised by the touch, and I give him another wink over my shoulder as I go back to helping Reinhardt. We exchange a couple pleasantries, and I grab another load. When I turn to put it in the truck, Hanzo is walking away, but the smile over his shoulder just puts me at ease.

The more I wonder... The surer I am the answer is yes.


	7. Hurricane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genji laughed. "I still stand by - you are a strange man."  
> "Oh, come on. You don't like that one either? That's a Shimada Brothers Special."  
> "Oh, I get it," he answered. "It's just weird."  
> He moved towards the door, and we both watched him go.  
> "Thank you, McCree-san," Hanzo said, quietly.  
> I gave him a shy smile. "You didn't have to do that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before you say, "But he's from New Mexico, it should be monsoon season!" I point out he loves /Mexico/ more. My Jesse doesn't much like his hometown. And I live in Tucson, so I SYMPATHISE.
> 
> Also, you may have noticed the UN change. I'm SmutWithPlot on almost everything (Twitter, Tumblr, Instagram, Pinterest, Swarm, etc.) and I write/do most of my projects under the blanket 'company' LoonyMoonyProductions.weebly.com, and I also have a Patreon set up. Please, if you like my writing, considering becoming a Patron or investigating my original works and artwork and crafts (I have an Etsy shop!) and the quarterly geek & gamer magazine I'm head editor and resident dragon for (@BlakesDungeon on most everything). I'm presently unemployed, so finding fans that are willing to support the work is the only income I have right now. I'm hurtin' guys. Help a brother out?

"Dismissed."

Those anxious to attend to their plans for the day stood and scampered out of the room. Ana rose, speaking in hushed tones of Arabic with her daughter - I caught 'be careful, my child' in there - and she saved me a smile. She squeezed my shoulder with gave me a quick kiss on the cheek, which I returned. Fareeha gave me a proper hug, and I squeezed her back. Lucio held out a hand to high five me, but I swooped away. "Up! Ya missed."

"McCree! Tease!"

I snickered, and gave him an elbow to bump instead. I stood, folding my own orders in four and sticking them in my back pocket. I couldn't help but feel the eyes of both of the Shimada brothers in one corner, talking amongst themselves in Japanese. I stepped behind Reinhardt with the intention of getting out before they could corner me--

"Jesse!"

\-- Damn. I stopped, and turned, smiling innocently enough. "'Sup, Genji?"

Both brothers moved towards me, and it was hard to decipher either of their faces. Hanzo because he had a good poker face. Genji, because his was omnic.

"I..." Genji started. He looked to his brother, whose eyes widened almost imperceptibly, and then back to me. "I want to apologize."

I gave him my best lopsided grin. "Whatever for?" As if I didn't know.

"For... last week. I threatened you. That was uncalled for."

I glanced around, and realised it was just the three of us now. "Hey, man. No one got hurt or nothin'. I steamed about it, and now it's done." I held out my left hand. "No harm, no foul."

He took it, and shook it. "...You are strange man," he said, a breathy laugh to his words.

"Come on, now. Metal man gets a metal arm, squishy man gets a squishy arm. Like so." I held out the other to Hanzo.

His eyes glittered, and his lips smiled. He took my hand, his fingers warm and firm, and we shook.

"See? Everyone's happy."

Genji laughed and let go. Hanzo took a moment more to squeeze me (perhaps in thanks) and then let go. "I still stand by - you are a strange man."

"Oh, come on. You don't like that one either? That's a Shimada Brothers Special."

"Oh, I get it," he answered. "It's just weird."

He moved towards the door, and we both watched him go.

"Thank you, McCree-san," Hanzo said, quietly.

I gave him a shy smile. "You didn't have to do that."

He gave me a small shrug. "Truth be told, it was eating at him, too." He regarded me curiously. "You two are old friends. He did not want to ruin that." And then he held a hand to hide a secret. "And also, he was scared to approach you while you were... 'steaming'."

I let a chuckle rattle my bones. It felt awful good. "Yeah, I can get scary." My hands wanted to move... To where, I didn't know. But I stuck my thumbs in my belt loops. I looked back to the rest of them, and I could hear chattering in the hall. When I looked back at him, he was looking at the hall, too. He was worrying at his lower lip.

I wanted to ask...

I cleared my throat, and twisted my fists in my denim. He looked to me, and I decided to ask him something else.

"Say. Have you been told today?"

He gave a breathy laugh, but his smile replaced the worry. His eyes were like storms... Hurricane skies whipping the wind about you, daring you to stay out on the beach and catch a wave, when you ought to be hiding at home and weathering the weather with a bottle of rum and some friendly company.

"I have not."

"Baby," I whispered, leaning closer. "You... are fucking gorgeous." I could see him shiver and squirm just a little bit, and I pulled back. He was looking away from me, but his hands were clutching at his kimono like he was trying not to do something, too. "And..." Those eyes looked up at me, and I could swear I saw lightning. "Your eyes..." They brightened, and I could see the wave, calling me... "Are about as lovely as hurricane season."

They blinked, and he frowned, his head tilting sideways. "Sorry?"

"Oh right... Tsunami season," I corrected. They brightened. "Right about when the weather is so bad, whipping everything about, you're outside nailing things down you don't want to lose. And you get that batshit crazy idea to grab your surf board and go out to ride the waves."

He chewed on it, and I watched his eyes go back to the doorway... Sense was pulling him there, but something was keeping him there. The same thing that had me still standing here. Even if my hands were knotted up in my belt right now.

"That is very reckless," he said, looking back at me. His eyes thundered...

I bit my lip and nodded. "Mm-hmm."

I watched those eyes look me up and down, and they caught at my hands, twisted into my loops. I saw his lips stretch and--

"Oniisan!"

We both broke. His delight doused like ice water. I looked the opposite way, biting my tongue now to keep from saying something that I would regret.

"Hai!" he said, moving. I let him go and took a deep breath.

 _I am in deep trouble_ , I told myself...

"Jesse-san?"

And yet, my head turns without question. His face falters, seeing mine. I wonder what thoughts my eyes give _him_. But he puts on a sharp smile.

"I've never been surfing," he says. And then he gives the cutest damned giggle and turns back and slips around the corner.

I realise my heart is pounding in my heart. I take a seat. I untangle my hands and tug at my hat as I lick my lips and swallow, my throat suddenly dry and useless.

 _I can take you sometime_ , I answer silently to no one.

I lean back in the chair and rub my hand over my face... breathing deep.

 _I am so much deep trouble_ , I think again. God damn, I've got a crush on the damned samurai. Wait until Jack or Winston get wind of this. Or until the Amaris figure it out. Or god forbid, Genji. I'm a goner. I am so gone...

And as something in me aches I had forgotten was still there, I realize it's been so long since I had... Well. Anyone. I wouldn't know what to do with him if I caught him.

I haven't surfed in a long time either. And I don't know if I remember it well enough to teach someone else.


	8. Late

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jesse can't sleep. Distractions only work so well.

I can't sleep.

I've tried everything. Midnight shooting. Midnight training. Midnight work out. Midnight snack when that made me hungry. It's getting on 230 in the am, and I'm standing in the galley munching on a ham and bacon and egg sammich, wondering if this is just my breakfast, and if I'll get any rest before I have to be up at 0600 doing things...

My eyes like to droop, and I open them with a start when I see a motion before me.

It takes a moment for my comprehension to catch up, and in the mean time I swallow. I set the sammich down and rub my eyes to look at the person rifling through the fridge. I don't recognise them right away. It's not the rocketship fleece jim-jams Lena favors. It's not Symmetra or Genji, because they have no reason to be in the kitchen at 2a. It's not the imposing cut of Reinhardt, or the less imposing cut of Torbjorn. It isn't Hana, who was in here twenty minutes ago for a fresh Mountain Dew and a bag of shrimp chips. And yet, the longish, raven hair screams asian. As does the silk robe.

Until I recognise it has dragons on it.

I swallow again, though my mouth is empty. I recognise the largeness of male hands on the door, and when he peeks at me over his shoulder, I see his whiskers, and worried eyes.

"Are you alright, McCree-san?" he asks.

I rub at my eyes again, as a yawn takes me. I can feel some kind of tension in me releasing.

"Just tired," I growl. "Can't sleep."

He gives me a sympathetic smile, but I see his eyes wandering up and down. I'm probably still sticky with sweat, tank top not hiding my bearishness, and the unpleasant stitching of flesh to metallic prosthetic. I hide my arm behind me.

"...How about you?"

He holds a glass of his jasmine tea, as if in a toast. "Thirsty."

"Kanpai," I say, toasting him with my sandwich. I catch a bit of bacon grease and popped egg from my palm with my tongue. "Mm. Sorry. Messy sammich."  
He hums. He leans his hips against a counter, echoing me.

I put the sandwich down and wipe myself off with a napkin. "You, ah... You settlin' in alright?"

He gives me that little shrug. "It is... interesting."

I nod. "Lots of interesting characters around here." I give him a smile.

He returns it. I know he's looking me up and down... and I do the same.

Hanzo Shimada does not mind showing his chest. The dragons that decorate his sleeve creep over his shoulder and perch on a breast. But in the fluorescent lights of the kitchen, I can still see whispers of scars peppered on his skin. Tied bottoms hang around his hips, and a part of me wonders how my hands would fit into that shape.

I close my eyes and let out a deep breath through my nose. I rub my eyes. "Lots of interesting characters." I hear the tap of glass, and when I blink open my eyes, he is standing in front of me, that glass set next to my sandwich.

"Jesse-san. Why can you not sleep?"

I swallow hard. "I..." I keep thinking of you. I keep thinking of that mischievous smirk when you talk shibari, and I imagine what your tattoos would look like peeking out of a binding. I imagine a ladder of black rope wound taut over rippled muscles, arms pulled behind you, those storm cloud eyes watching me with want over your shoulder. I want to know what you would do if I bound your wrists up high, and covered your body in kisses and caresses and pinches and forceful grabbings that many would call 'disrespectful'. I want to know if you would thrash and fight me, or if you would beg me to hurt you more. I want to know what it feels like when you whisper my name in the quiet, and how long it would take you to lose the honourary... Or give me a better one. I want to know how many pina coladas it takes to get you undressed, or if you prefer straight tequila. I want to know if you would be a better surfer than me, or constantly drown yourself trying to do right to impress me, skin glistening with saltwater and summer sun. I want to see you napping on a towel in the Mexican sun, and I want to trail an ice cube over your skin to see what noises you make...

His eyes search mine, and I don't know if he can handle that kind of truth.

"...I got a lot on my mind."

"Is it Genji-kun?" he asked.

My heart breaks... Because, yes. It's also that part where his brother breaks into the room and finds his brother bound, covered in hand marks and bite marks, red-faced and gagging, and he guts me. Or when someone bangs on the door when I finally have you presented before me, prostrate and open, and they startle you, and shame you. The horror in their eyes when they find us. The look in Winston's eyes, or Jack's, when he has to reprimand us for compromising each other, and that we are never to work again...

"Not... exactly."

It's me coming on to him, and his eyes widen in horror when he realises what I mean, and it's too much. The first time I have him bound and he cries in panick for me to release him.

When he is drunk, and confesses that he doesn't want me... When my omnic hand is too rough on delicate flesh and he ends up in hospital because of me. When we get in a domestic and one of us ends up shooting the other...

I imagine his cold grey eyes vast and empty as whirlpools when I howl at the moon in despair at his dead body clutched in my arms.

I bite my lip, and breathe deep, his eyes watching mine. He is patient. He is listening. And yet... I can't say it.

I swallow. "Just got a lot on my mind."

I can't look at him, but out of the corner of my eye, he nods.

"I understand." He takes his glass and I listen to him down it with a shallow sigh. He puts it in the sink and rinses it out. I lift my head to watch him, and even from this angle he's handsome. He looks tired, too...

"Are you sleepin' alright?" I note the deep concern in my voice. I know it gives me away.

He looks to me, almost like being caught. He works his lips, looking down. "I cannot sleep either."

"If I'm botherin' you..." I say. And his eyes widen in alarm. "I'll stop."

His head shakes. "No... No, I am not bothered," he says. He tries for a reassuring smile. And then his lips tug to one side. "Hey. Have you been told today?"

I snort. He's precious. "No. No, I have not."

"Would you like to be told?"

I crossed my arms. "Sure. Why not?"

"Baby..." But his smile falters. "You are so... beautiful." His eyes look up at me.

My heart breaks. I can see his heart breaking, too... Like that thunderstorm moving away from you, leaving only blown trees and rattled goods behind.

"It breaks my heart to see you so upset."

I look away from him, chewing on my own lip.

"I really appreciate that from ya, darlin," I say, my voice thick and heavy with sleep and... I rub my eyes.

"I wish I could help you feel better," he whispers.

I give a pained laugh. "You do, baby..." I sniff, and I know I miss a tear. "You do. Don't doubt that."

I push myself off the counter, I can't do this.

"Jesse-san... Your food."

I stop. I turn to him. "I'm not hungry."

He is standing there, holding my plate towards me. A big part of me wants to go over there, take it from his hands and just...

Oh, I don't know what I would do. I turn away. "Help yourself," I say instead.

I'm trying to think about the bottle of Jack I have stashed under my dresser, and not about the bottle of sake still sitting next to it. I'm trying not to think about his lips on the bottle... of either. I just need to get to my room, I need some sleep, I need to do something other than go back there and do something really reckless and stupid, and I'm more than halfway back to my room before I realize...

I didn't ask him why he couldn't sleep.


	9. Ill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "See what happens when I don't go to Mexico for three weeks?" I say. "I lose that gorgeous tan and everyone suddenly thinks I look ill."
> 
> "No, it's because you look ill," Angela protested. "Are you sleeping alright? How's your diet."
> 
> "Ma," I answer. "I'm fine."
> 
> Her eyes narrow at me. And then she looks over my shoulder. "Ana, slap him for me, will you?"
> 
> Ana complained. "Ibn, what did you do?"
> 
> "I didn't do nothing," I said, desperate laughter shaking my words. "Y'all think there's something wrong with me."
> 
> "There is something wrong with you!" Ana said. "One week you're fine, next week you're grumpy like someone shot your dog, two days you're happy, then you show up like this. It's like you're sick or something."
> 
> Yeah. Love sick. "I'm fine. Honestly. I appreciate y'all worryin' after me, but I'm fine."

I lingered as long as I could... But staying up all night with half a sandwich and a good four or five shots of whiskey (and some furious masturbating that I pray no one heard, because that was embarassing) and then maybe 5 hours of sleep (which would be good, had it not been night 3 of this nonsense) I just couldn't do it anymore. It was well after 9, and I killed another 20 minutes in the shower, trying to wash away my shame and sleep. I even tapped into the makeup I keep for ugly scarring when I have to go out in public and touched at my eyes. It wouldn't fix the red in my eyes, but it would help with the bags. I put on my softest cotton tee (it was Saturday, damn you) and plucked out a shirt that caught my eye. It was purples and reds, with slices of blue cut into it. I didn't wear it much, sticking to yellows and oranges and reds that went with my serape, but... What the hell? I pulled it on and buttoned it halfway. My comfiest jeans, light denim, and my boots, spurs and all. I tucked the stuffed brown leather trifold in my back pocket, too. Maybe I would get some breakfast and hit a bar somewhere. Go out for a movie. Get away from everything for the day.

And then I remembered, _fuck. It's Saturday_.

Everyone was there. Reinhardt was running the kitchen, and Angela was assisting. Breakfast was eggs and brats and hash and an assortment of buns and croissants that Angie had probably been up since 4 making. There was a veritable party going down, and Fareeha caught me in the hallway.

"JESSE! Get in here!" She scooped up my arm and dragged me in, laughing and clutching my hat. She brought me to her mother, who was lording over one of the small tables to one side. She gave me a long, and disapproving look.

"Ibn, you look like shit," she told me.

I shrugged a little. "Didn't sleep too well last night."

"You said that two nights ago," she answered, waving a piece of sticky bun. "What, you are not sleeping? First you grump, then you get a little better, then you don't sleep. What is with you?"

My eyes looked around the room. Lena was laughing at Zarya manhandling Lucio in one corner. Torbjorn was talking with Soldier over eggs, and in the back, Genji was presiding over a Go game with Hana and Hanzo. They were chattering, friendly, and I smiled a little to see him smile.  
Even though my heart was in my throat. I turned back to her. "Just tired is all."

She curse in Arabic. "Do not lie to me." She snatched at my hat, and I chuckled as she took it and put it on her head.

"McCree!"

I turned, and even the house seemed to hush a moment. Angela gave me her brightest, most angelic smile. "About time you showed up." She put a fist on her hip. "I was worried you were hung over again."

"When am I not?" I protested in jest.

She rolled her eyes. "Food. What do you want?"

"Ve have brats!" Reinhardt announced. "Sizzle and blackened. Just what a growing boy needs."

I chuckled. "Who made the coffee?"

"I did," Angela said, pleased with herself. "His has chocolate in it."

Then they pointed at each other with finger guns and a laugh.

"Well, hell, get me a mocha then," I teased. Angela met me at the counter with a coffee.

"Donut while you wait?" She gestured to her bounty of sweets...

"Mm. Maybe one of the sticky buns. A little one! Maybe half of one."

She snorted at me, but gave me a small one on a napkin.

"Thank you."

And before I could turn around, Hanzo had ghosted next to me.

"Wilhelm-san!" He even pronounced the W as a V. "Another for Hana-chan. She is kicking my butt!"

The other two (and even some of those behind me) cheered.

He sat to wait, and looked to me sideays. He leaned closer. "You do not look so good, MrCree-san."

"Didn't sleep too good," I said, and I took a gulp of coffee.

"You said that before," he noted. He seemed to sniff. And his face twisted. He leaned closer to whisper. "Do you smell like drink?"

I swallowed. He was close enough to smell it on me. I gave him an eye. "It's Saturday, Hanzo."

"And?"

I gave him an eye, and Angela brought him a cookie from the cupboard.

"Here. She's earned it."

"Oh, do not encourage her _this_ much," he said. "She will be unsufferable."

Angela tapped a finger to her nose and winked. Hanzo chuckled.

Reinhardt delivered my plate, but his smile dimmed when he looked at me. "You alright there? You look a little ill."

"See what happens when I don't go to Mexico for three weeks?" I say. "I lose that gorgeous tan and everyone suddenly thinks I look ill."

"No, it's because you look _ill_ ," Angela protested. "Are you sleeping alright? How's your diet."

" _Ma_ ," I answer. "I'm fine."

Her eyes narrow at me. And then she looks over my shoulder. "Ana, slap him for me, will you?"

Ana complained. "Ibn, what did you do?"

"I didn't do nothing," I said, desperate laughter shaking my words. "Y'all think there's something wrong with me."

"There is something wrong with you!" Ana said. "One week you're fine, next week you're grumpy like someone shot your dog, two days you're happy, then you show up like this. It's like you're sick or something."

 _Yeah. Love sick_. "I'm _fine_. Honestly. I appreciate y'all worryin' after me, but I'm fine."

"Bah! Ibn, when was the last time you wore that shirt?"

I blinked, looking back at her. "What?"

"Ibn, I bought you that shirt! For your birthday. Years ago. You never wear it. You say purple looks good on me, but you don't like it on yourself. Why are you wearing it?"

I drop my fork on my plate and rub my face with my hand. I press them together to my lips and say a prayer. "Lord. Help me not kill all these crazy women riding me."

"I am not a woman!" Reinhardt protested from the stove.

"And I'm not crazy!" Ana added.

" _Damn_  lie."

"I am not a woman either," added Hanzo. I looked to him sideways, and he lifts a hand to my forehead. He frowns. "He does not feel... unnecessarily warm."

Angela is drying her hand, and she does it as well. I sigh... Everyone thinks I'm sick now.

"Hmm. No fever. But you didn't answer me. How is your diet?"

"My diet is fine." To prove it, I took a big piece of sausage and shoved it in my mouth. I gestured to the plate. _See?_

She glances at my coffee mug and snatches it. She gives a disapproving sound. "You guzzled that quick. How is the sleep?"

"I got five hours, thank ya kindly."

She raises a brow and glances at the clock. She narrows at me. "In how many days?"

I growl, but she is already back to the pot to refill it. "Bunch of worryin' mother hens..."

"Jesse-san," Hanzo says, his own voice stern. "Answer her."

"Thank you, Hanzo," Angela says. Dropping my mug in front of me. She looks to me with eyes that won't let it go.

I swallow hard, my hand reaching for my mug. "Fine. I ain't sleepin'."

I sip, and she makes another disapproving noise. Ana comes up behind me, and leans on the counter looking up at me.

She reaches a hand to my face and I lean away from her, but she slaps me on the face in protest ("Damn it, woman!") and grips my jaw in one hand. I squeeze my eyes shut, but she rubs a thumb under my eyes.

I sigh, deflating, and she slaps me again, harder this time, on my arm.

"Ow!"

And then she punches me.

"Ah-how! Damn it, woman!"

She looks to Angela. "Good for you, Doc?"

She nods. "Wonderful."

I growl. "I don't appreciate bein' jumped on by womne."

"Why? Because you cannot hit me back?" Ana demands. "Why are you not sleeping?"

I swallow hard, avoiding her eye. She grabs my jaw and jerks it back. Now I'm getting _mad_. "You mind?"

"Do not lie to me, ibn! Answer me true."

I grind my teeth. The blessing of it is, I don't have to look at Hanzo. "Got a lot of shit on my mind."

"Like what? Did someone back home die? You getting married? Because that will mess you up. I've done that. But this! This is something you thought up in your own head and you're torturing yourself. What is it, ibn? Why do you do this to yourself?"

I could see Angela milling about the kitchen in her own white satin and bright blue jeans, humming to herself like an innocent perfect angel, like she hadn't just called Anubis on me.

But I met her eyes, and they were firm, angry, hard, yes. But also looking. Waiting, wanting to know. The fierce protectiveness of a mother, knowing her child is hiding something from her.

I swallowed again, my eyes turning sad. "Please, Ma. Not here."

She let go of my jaw, her own tight and angry. "You will tell me," she warns, finger in my face. "Or I will find out. You do not do well with secrets, ibn. You wear a flag over your head saying, 'Don't ask me! I'll have to tell you.' It gets you in trouble."

I crick my own neck. And I stand. I know she is half my size, and a part of me knows I could take her, but I also know that she knows me too well, and she'd kick my ass. Plus I respect her too much to do that. Plus there are lots of other people in the room who will put me down like a rabid dog if I did such a thing. Still. Old habits die hard.

She crosses her arms, warning me against any further foolishness. I down my coffee, and it's too much and it's too hot, but I do it anyway. And I can see Hanzo watching me with concern in his eyes. I leave the last bit before I can choke on it and drop it with maybe a little more force than is necessary. I stab a sausage and take a bite before turning to leave.

"I know where you sleep, ibn!" she calls after me.

"Not if I'm not sleepin'," I growl as I turn the corner. My boots jangle, heavy and angry, but as the lights move shadows around me, I see someone following me.

I snarl again, turning. "What do you wa--"

And I realise who it is. He is panting slightly, face twisted in concern.

I chew my sausage, not wanting to have this conversation... Whatever conversation this is.

"It is me. Isn't it?"

I swallow hard. I fume, not able to move, barely to breathe, not quite to speak--

"I am why you cannot sleep, yes?" he asks me. There is hope there, and it hurts.

"No," I lie. But I can't look him in the eyes.

He moves forward, and he tugs at my shirt. I look up at him, but the anger in my eyes cools, looking at him. I feel the steam go out my nose, and instead of anger, my gut is full of cold, wet stones. Heavy and ill.

"This shirt," he says gently. "It is the same blue. Yes?"

He's referring to his dragons. I know he is. I didn't want to put those two together. Part of me did it hoping someone would notice, but another part of me insisted there was no cause for it. It's just a shirt.

His eyes glitter at me, but they shine with concern. "Jesse-san... Why are you not sleeping?"

I swallow hard, but this time, my breathing is loud, shallow, inefficient... "Lots of reasons," I whisper. My hands move forward, wanting to touch, but...

Panicked eyes look over his shoulder, but no one is following us. I look back to him, and his eyes are open, waiting... listening.

I shake my head, biting my lip. I can't say it...

"Tell me one," he says gently, his fingers loosening their grip on my shirt. Feeling him brush against me, brushing against the coarse hairs on my chest, so few layers between us--

My hand snatches at his, stopping it. I know my grip is too strong, and I loosen it. If I've hurt him, he doesn't respond.

Our eyes are locked. His eyes are like stormy seas. They make me awe, and they make me want to do crazy, reckless things.

"Please don't touch me," I whisper, but my hands are gentle when I return his hand. I turn away, and he doesn't reach out for me.

I'm thinking of a bar. I'm thinking of a bar in Mexico where the tequila is cheap, and I know a barmaid with one eye who doesn't mind my metal hand. I'm thinking of all the times I went to here when I was lonely, and how she's always been able to please me.

And I'm hoping to god it works, because if it doesn't, I've gone and fallen in love.


	10. Maria

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I was contemplating my fourth beer when Maria finally approached me. Not that she hadn't been back before then, and give me her usual hug and kiss as greeting, and our usual pointless chatter over the bar, but she actually approached me.  
> She joined me at my table, my cigar little more than a stub at this point, staring out the window. Her hand clasped over mine, and I turned it over, entagling fingers.  
> "Buenas noches," she purred.  
> "Buenas noches," I echoed, taking my cigar from my lips. I leaned forward, and she kissed me, sweet and wet and warm.  
> She tasted like lime and chips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SMUT AHOY! And a big dose of Spanish, so... if you don't know Spanish, learn some. If you do! I'm a Puerto Rican, I'm sorry.

One of these days, my beat up old truck won't make it to Mexico. I will have a funeral pyre in her honour. Partly out of respect, and partly to destroy the evidence of all the mischief I've done in this old thing.

I know the route to Maria's better than I know my way around Silver City. Part of me avoiding the place for a decade as much as times a-changing, but Mexico doesn't change as much. It's an old faithful. I follow the old road down to the shore line, until everything is horseback and donkey carts. My truck sticks out like a Cadillac might in New York, but that's just the kind of town this is.

I park outside of the bar, mariachi music pounding on the walls and pouring out of the open windows and doorway. Colourful baubles dance in the ocean breeze, and I get a good lungful of the salt air.

I still think of him, though. About how much I want to take him here, to show him my safe haven, and let him know the almost second family I cultivate, all on my lonesome. Where they know I'm good with a gun, but if they know who Deadeye McCree is, they pretend it's not me. I step into the bar, and some turn curiously. A couple of the locals greet me fondly, and it warms my heart.

"Buenos tardes," I tell them, and I pull up a seat at the bar.

"Bienvenido," the girl at the bar tells me.

"Hola," I answer, tugging at my hat. Her skin is golden brown from the sun, the white blouse she's wearing hanging off her shoulders. Straps of colourful bikini hug her neck, enticing anyone to join her in the surf...

"[Where's your mama?]" I ask her, pretending to be polite.

She keeps her eyes down. "[She is out getting more limes. She will be back shortly.]"

"Perfecto. Una cerveza, por favor." She fetches me a Corona from the ice box and I watch her pop the top and serve it with a slice of Lime. "Gracias."

"De nada." She leaves me to it, and goes back to her task, making salsa fresca on the side. I bite a taste of the lime, and then carefully squeeze the juice into the bottle. I poke it on in with a finger (licking off the excess juice) and give it a spin before I sip.

Little things like this are the kind of happy places that keep a man sane in bad places. Tiny moments of sacred goodness.

I take my beer to the window, and I look out at the beach. It's crowded - it is a Saturday evening - and yet, it never gets too cramped here. This is a little sideways hole of a town, the sort of place that is pretty locals only. I only found it because I got real friendly with a girl at one of the resorts, and she stole me away here for a weekend. The side of Mexico a Mexican girl takes you to, to get away from it all?

That kind of slice of heaven.

I let my thoughts and worries slip away from me as I just stare at the surf and the sunset, how beautiful and peaceful it is here. There was no Gabriel Reyes, no Winston, no Ana, no Mercy, no Hanzo, no Genji, no Reinhardt... No nothing. No bounties to hunt. No targets to eliminate. No post code you could catch me at. Folks here knew me only as 'Jesse' or 'cowboy'. No one got crazy and wanted to jump me here. I'd been coming here since before the First Watch ended, and damn it, I was going to die here one day. Where no one could find me.

I was contemplating my fourth beer when Maria finally approached me. Not that she hadn't been back before then, and give me her usual hug and kiss as greeting, and our usual pointless chatter over the bar, but she actually approached me.

She joined me at my table, my cigar little more than a stub at this point, staring out the window. Her hand clasped over mine, and I turned it over, entagling fingers.

"Buenas noches," she purred.

"Buenas noches," I echoed, taking my cigar from my lips. I leaned forward, and she kissed me, sweet and wet and warm.

She tasted like lime and chips.

"It has been a while, mi amor," she said. "I thought you had forgotten me."

"Oh, stop," I said, grinning. "I could never forget you."

Her fingers trailed up and down my arm, her eye coy. "I have been watching you."

I raised eyebrows. "Yeah?"

She nodded, but her eye looked sad. "You look troubled."

I know my face crumpled, and I couldn't blame it all on the drink. "You can tell?"

"Mi amor," she said, moving a hand to touch my face. "You do not sit in a corner staring at the sky when you are well. You are at the bar, happy, laughing and buying everyone else drinks."

I made a sound. "You have a point."

She took our enclosed hands to her lips and kissed my knuckles. "You have come here for me. I know it." She hugged it to her chest, and my fingers moved out of habit over her soft, warm skin... "Talk to me, bebito."

My hand moved over her skin, hooking on her neck, my thumb stroking her throat. She leaned into it, and I swallowed hard.

"I'm afraid... I'm afraid I've fallen in love with someone else."

Her mouth parts, ready for a joke, but something in my eyes stops her. "That worries you?"

I swallow hard, but my voice comes out thick and uneven. "It's been a very long time since that happened." My eyes look at her, and her fingers squeeze mine.

"But that is a good thing, mi amor," she whispers. "You deserve to have someone. You do not have to come down to see me anymore."

She strokes at my hair, and I am struck by how well she takes this. I mean... I know I'm not her only lover, but still.

"Problem is... It's awful complicated." I know she is beautiful, and I know she is soft and lovely. I know how hot and tight she feels, and the wonderful sounds she makes. I know how my name tastes on her lips, and I don't even care about the eyepatch, she's still so beautiful...

"Then uncomplicate it," she whispers. "I know you. You get lost in your own head, and you think too much." She tugs me closer, and I obey. She kisses me, and I try to answer it. "Go to her," she whispers. "You should tell her how you feel."

And I let out a soft sob, touching my skull to hers, and my thumb strokes her beautiful, soft skin. "That's the damnedest thing," I say, voice rough and hoarse with tears. I can feel them spilling over my cheeks. "No puedo, porque..." It's on the tip of my tongue, I can see it... "Porque mi amor es..." I swallow. "Es un hombre."

Her eyes widen, and her jaw drops. "...Oh!"

I give her a small shrug. "Awful complicated. Like I said."

She blinks again. Not sure what to say. Her thumb strokes the underside of my wrist, and my hands roam over her softness. "...Well. I did not know that."

"Not that you ain't pretty and all," I say. "And damn if you ain't pretty..."

I go for a kiss, and she hesitates, and pulls away, a hand on my jaw. I look to her in surprise, and she has a mischievous smile.

"I know what you are doing," she whispers, mischievous. "You are trying to prove to yourself you like women."

I snort. "I know I like women. But I also know I like men... Question is, if I can like both of them at the same time."

"You are testing yourself," she says, smiling brightly. She leans away from me, and claps her hands in delight. "Bachelor night!"

I raised a brow. "Maria, you're scaring me."

"No no! I get it! Momento." I watch her, stunned, as she goes to the bar and asks her daughter for a bottle of tequila. I sigh, and laugh to myself. Maria is a handful. It's why I like her. I rest my chin on my hand until she comes back with two shot glasses and a bottle of Jose Cuervo.

"This is what we will do." She pours us each a shot. "You want to come here and forget him. But, that is not how Maria works." She waves a finger at me and I chuckle, eyes sparkling in affection. She pops one in front of me, and slides one to herself. "Instead, Maria will help you realise this." She toasts me. I oblige her. "A toast to...?"

I sigh, and I'm sure I'm grinning like an idiot. "Hanzo. His name is Hanzo Shimada."

She makes a sound of approval. "To Hanzo. The lucky man who stole your heart..." She downs the shot with a bracing noise.

I do the same and groan warmly. She plucks both glasses up to refill.

"...And now." She teases, glasses back at our lips. "You will tell me all about him."

I grin. "You're crazy, you know that?" We both take the shot and she purrs.

"Mmm. Mama loca, they call me. You know this. So! First things. How did you meet?"

I shake my head. "You know I don't tell you shit like that."

"Mm! Be vague. I don't care." She waves at me to continue.

"Fine... We work together."

"Ooh... Work place romance. That _is_  complicated."

"And... I know his brother."

"Family connection is good."

"I known his brother for _years_. We're old friends."

"Oh... Dating friend's brother. That is complicated also."

"And... I'm pretty sure he's never dated a guy before."

I took my shot with a growl and dropped it down for another.

She held hers aloft. "Are you scared?"

I bit my lip and nodded. The liquor made the room spin when I did so, but it wasn't unpleasant. I looked up at her. "I'm fuckin' terrified."

"How exciting," she teased. She took her own shot and filled them up. "So. You say you've had men before?"

I shrugged. "Once or twice. Flings. Nothing serious."

"I feel like you do a lot of 'nothing serious'," she chided.

I give a deep, rumbling laugh. "Don't judge me."

"I am not judging, I am commenting. I am one of those 'nothing serious' ones too."

"Yeah, but you're special," I insist.

"Aww, gracias, mi amor. I think you are pretty special too." And she reaches out for my hand... my left hand. And I smile sideways.

"There's also the..." I nod to our hands.

She hums. "How does he feel about the omnics?"

He shakes his head. "I don't know. Be honest, I think he's all smitten because of my whole, 'Have you been told' routine."

She giggles. "Oh yes... That one works pretty good."

"Speakin' of which, have you been told today?"

"I have not," she answered. "You should tell me."

"Mami... que bonita! Y tambien... sus besos son deliciosos."

"Mmm, gracias. Tu tambien." She winked at me.

"...I gotta learn how to say more than just 'pretty' in Spanish."

"Guapa is nice... linda."

"Linda is good."

"Mm. Try to avoid 'chula'. Boricuans, they use that one, then they come to Mexico and get in trouble."

I laugh. "What's that one?"

"Well, it means... you know. Attractive. Pero, here it has a, ah... prostituta?"

"Ah." I laugh. "You ain't gotta translate that one."

She giggles. She knocks back another shot. "Ah. Mm. So. Vaquero is in love, hmm? How fascinating."

"Yeah, and I'm a wreck," I say, grinning. "I haven't slept in days. I just..." I bite my lip. "Mm. Keep thinkin' about all the things I want to do to him."

"Oh my." She pours me another shot. "Do tell."

I grin. "Well, you know me. I bite. Claw. Growl. Boss you around."

"Mm. Yes. You are very bossy." The tip of her foot teases at my leg and I grab it to put it in my lap.

"You know me..." I tease, my fingers sliding over her calf. "I get to likin' ya, I want my hands all over you."

"Mm. I know. So. You want your hands all over him?"

I squeeze at her calf and she bristles. "God. He's so _tense_. Buff guy, like me. I feel like I could abuse him and he would take it."

"To be fair, you are very rough with me, and I take it."

"But that's the thing. I feel like he'd fight back... And that's exciting."

She giggled. "You are so excited! Why do you not just tell him?"

I sighed, my fingers stopping. "I worry. What if I hurt him? What if I..." I swallow. "What if something happens? I mean, I screw this up, it messes us both up at work, it could compromise us... And, I mean, his brother..." I shake my head, staring out at the sky. "I don't think his brother would take to it so well."

"Bebito, if you are in love, maybe he will understand? I mean, maybe not right away... Some people take time."

"That's what I'm worried about. I mean... If this is even a thing. I mean, he might _think_  he's into it, and then we get there..."

"Ahhh... That is a thing."

"Exactly. But even if it works out... It's not like I can hide that."

She laughs. "That is true. As you say - you like hands all over."

I nod. "We couldn't hide that. Not that I'd want to. But... Not everyone is as cool with it as you are." I reached a little higher and squeezed under her thigh.

She squeaked, jumping in her seat, and I chuckled. "Por favor, vaquero! Haha!"

I hum, my eyes dark. "I want him, Maria. Like when I want you."

She bit her lip. "I have had to shove you out from my bar before, you crazy man." Her toes tickle in a place close to home and I stop her.

"Hey!" And then I am tickling her foot, and we are both giggling, and we're both very drunk, and...

I sigh, resting a hand on her foot, and my head on my shoulder. "My thought was to come see you. Maybe you would put me back in the right mind."

"Why? Because I would fuck you into wanting me instead of him?" She snorted. "No way. I want to be that longing little tryst when you are tired of him and want some tacos."

"Ohh... wicked girl."

She sniggered. "Oh, please. I am older than you, bebito. Not by much, but I am." She grabbed my stogie and gave it a couple puffs. We both chuckled. "Mm. And your bebito. Is he older or younger?"

"Older. By like, a year. I didn't check his birthday or anything, but I remember Genji saying he's two years older, and Genji is younger than me, so..."

"Mm. And Genji is your friend?"

I realize I'm telling her a lot. Full names, even. "Maria, you know I don't talk about my work for a reason."

"Yes, of course," she answers, waving my stogie. "You are a scary-looking man with a scary-looking gun. You don't tell people who you are or what you do, and I trust that means you don't tell anyone else where you go when you come here."

"Of course not," I reassure her. My hand begins to massage under the bridge of her foot, and she relaxes. "I would never do that to you."

"It is in your best interest to tell no one about me," she purrs. "Likewise, I will tell no one what you tell me. It is in my best interest not to piss off the vaquero with the pistolas."

I chuckle. "Glad we have that understanding."

She nods, puffing on my cigar. "So. Your friend. He is little brother to the man you love." She waves. "What else?"

I chuckled. "Well... You know how I got that whole cowboy thing going on?"

She nodded. "You know, yes. I noticed that."

"Well... He's got a samurai thing. All... Kimono and silk scarves and ninja quiet."

"Oh! He is, ah... Chinese?"

"Japanese."

"Right..." She gives me a knowing smile and puffs on my cigar. "So. Does he take you out for sushi?"

I laughed. "No. It's not like we date." And my smile falters.

"Bebito, you should take him here. Have me meet him." She leans forward, putting my cigar back in the ash tray.

"...I think about that."

"Do it! I won't tell him I know." She downs the shot I've been neglecting and wiggles her eyebrows at me.

My fingers stroke along her leg, my left propping up my chin. "You really are pretty, you know that?"

"I know. I got told today." And then she leaned over. "Oscar!"

"Que?" answered another patron.

"Dame lo!"

"'Dame lo' que?" he protested.

"Na!" She pointed at his face. "Lo cigarillo. Dame uno, por favor."

I sniggered as protested, he pulling one out of his shirt. She chided him, and then called to her daughter to get him a beer for his trouble. I chuckled as she pulled it out of the wrapper, pleased with herself, and handed it to me.

"Why, thank you," I said, moving to pocket it.

"No creo -- por favor! Mira, you got the cutter, right? Hook it up, hermano."

"Oh, okay..." I reached in my pocket - and she took advantage of my motion to press that pretty little foot of hers somewhere sensitive - and I pulled out my cutter, giving her an eye. "You are trouble."

"You know it, cowboy." She picks up my hat and puts it on her head.

I smirk, puffing on it to get it lit, and then slide it over to her. "Senora."

"Gracias, mi amor." Her foot still wanders, and I let it. I pour us both drinks, and she lets the smoke out, the slender cigarello in her fingertips. "So... How much do you want me, senor?"

"You're gettin' very drunk," I replied. To be fair, I was, too.

She chuckled. "Y que? That hasn't stopped you before."

Her toes are gently kneading me, and damn it feels good. I growl softly. "Maria... Chiquita. Bonita. Linda bebita..."

She moaned, a delicious sound, a drunk smile on her lips as she arches in her seat. "Si, senor."

"Darlin'. Much as... I am tempted." I moved her foot from my lap, and her face changes to surprise as I stand. I stagger a little... but I stand. "I do think you need to go to bed."

She pouts. "Will you take me?"

I nod. "Yeah. I can do that." I hold out a hand to her, and she takes it. Rising. She is wearing a sheer dress, soft lavendars and silvers and plum purples, and it is silky to the touch. I touch the small of her back as I lead her to the exit. She mumbles something to her daughter, and she bids us good night. I see someone out of the corner of my eye collect our tequila and put it back behind the bar.

"Jesse..." she teases me, sing-song, drunk dancing from foot to foot. "Caballero." She mocks with her hands spinning a lasso overhead. I chuckle softly. We go to her humble abode, and then to her humble bedroom. She jumps onto the bed, clutching to my hat. "Eso es mio," she warns me, dark eye drunk but glittering.

"Oh really?"

"Oh really," she answers. I grab a chair and start pulling off my boots. She turns over on her belly, looking to me. "Hey, cowboy!"

That name makes my heart ache. But I look up at her. She is too drunk to tell.

"Hey. You sexy."

"Nice to be told."

"Will you tell me?"

I sigh. And I run a hand through my hair. I look to her, hips swaying expectantly, pretty little bare feet dancing behind, blistered and dark from walking on them all the time, and my hat pressed over her wild black tresses. "Honey. You. Are fucking gorgeous." She starts to giggle, and I smile. "And... You are definitely one of the best kept secrets in Mexico."

"Damn right," she said, tongue sticking out.

I stand, removing my belt. My fingers linger on the belt buckle. _BAMF_. I don't feel very bad-ass at the moment.

_What am I doing here?_

"Jesse?" I hear her move, and I look to her. She stands, taking the hat off. "Bebito..."

"I'm sorry," I whisper. "I wasn't sure if..." I swallow hard.

"Hey..." She comes up to me, arms wrapping around me. I envelope her in mine. Big brown eye looks up at me, drunk, but heartfelt. "Si no se quiere... nada. Oca?"

I lift a thumb to trace her cheek. "Lo siento."

She shakes her head, resting her face against my shirt and giving me a squeeze. "No problemo, vaquero."

I squeeze her, too. "I appreciate it."

When she steps away, her fingers catch on mine. Even the metal ones. Her smile is sad, but she gives it to me. "You can still stay with me. I won't jump you. Promise."

I laugh. "Ain't you supposed to be scared of me?"

She shrugs. "I know you. You are a good man. And... you are in love with someone else."

For once... the thought doesn't bring me pain. There's almost a kind of comfort, a relief in having finally shared it with someone. Even if it was a one-eyed barmaid who made half her living in bed. Someone who would probably never meet him, or his brother, or anyone else I had to deal with on a daily basis. An objective opinion that wasn't objective at all, but instead a confirmation of my greatest fears and hopes and dreams...

"I am," I agreed. I nodded. I was going to say it out loud. "I'm in love with Hanzo."

She nodded, her eye glittering with romance and approval. "But! He is not here. You get to hold me at night instead. Is that alright?"

I laughed. _That was the plan_... I consider that. It's way too late to drive back home, and I'm definitely too drunk to do so safely... I reach for my shirt, the blue popping out nicely in the moonlight. It really isn't my colour at all, but rather someone else's colour. I unbutton it and set it aside before adding my jeans to the chair.

"Move over, chiquita," I grumble. She giggles, and I manage to snatch the hat from her hands. I spin it towards the chair... and miss.

I groan, and she pouts. "Oh, you missed."

I sighed, a hand on her hip. "Yeah, but I don't want to get up and get it."

"Right? Is so comfy now."

She wiggled against me, and I chuckled. "Hey, no jumping. You promised."

"I said _I_  would not jump. This is not jumping."

I laughed in my throat. Maria was a strange character, but she was very... forgiving in regards to my secrets and strange eccentricities. Maybe I surprised her tonight, but it wouldn't break her heart. I wrapped us both in the scarlet blanket, tucking myself in behind. I pulled the pillow tight underneath me with enough out front for her to use as well. It wasn't the fluffiest, most comfortable pillow in the world, but it would do. She grabbed my hand with a jealous murmur and tugged it close to her breast. I obliged and gave her breast a squeeze, and she hummed happily. I kissed the back of her neck, and she shivered. "Buenas noches, Maria."

"Buenas noches, vaquero," she purred. "I hope I can help you sleep."

I gave a humourless laugh. "Yeah, me too." I nuzzled at her, breathing her in, and I sighed. "You smell really nice."

"Mm. Gracias."

_"You do not look so good, McCree-san."_

_"Didn't sleep too good."_

_"You said that before." He sniffed at me. His face twisted, and he leaned even closer to whisper, "Do you smell like drink?"_

I swallowed hard, my grip tightening, my heart racing, even as my body started to twitch. There was a warm body next to mine, and a leg slipped between mine, moving gently, stroking... I let out a high pitched whine, but there were hands on my arm as well.

"Shhhh... You need to sleep," a gentle voice said.

My body answered the leg with grinding, and I pulled that body closer. I growled softly in their ear. "I need _you_..."

"Shhhh... Sleep." There was a whine her voice. _Her_  voice. "I promised..."

I growled in her ear. "I don't care." I bit into her shoulder, and she squeaked. My hands reached lower, finding her center and stroking...

"Jesse... Bebito, I promised..."

A hand reached high on my leg, near my groan, and nails dug into my flesh.

I hissed at the pain, and it was enough to wake me. My hands were full of Maria, and she was watching me over her shoulder, one good eye startled and worried.

I retracted, throwing myself on the wall, and hitting myself hard on the head. "AGH! Damn it!" I clutched my head with a groan, the ringing in my head added to a spinning that had Jose's name on it...

"Bebito, I know you are wanting..." she urged.

"No, no..." I held a hand to her. "It's fine. You're fine. Mm." I clutched my head, another part of me pulsing and protesting the assault.

"Let me get you ice." I listened to her stumble out of bed and into her tiny kitchen, and shovel out some ice. She came back with a bag and gave it to me.

I blinked at her, bleary, and I realised I could see in a very dim morning light. "Que hora es?"

She leaned over. "Ah..." She told me, in Spanish.

I tried to think. "Cinco?"

"Quatro."

" _Fuck_." It had only been a couple hours. And it was only four in the morning.

"Bebito, you did not sleep," she said, worried. "Do you _want_  me to...?"

I sighed. "...I don't know what I want anymore." I let down the bag of ice, and looked to her. "Maria, what the hell is wrong with me?"

She giggled. "You are in love. It makes people do crazy things." She held out a hand to stroke hair from my face. I leaned in to her touch. "I think you need to be touched."

I swallowed hard, thinking of the other morning. "...Yeah. That's a thing."

She kindly took the bag from me. "I can do that for you."

She lowered me down, and I sighed, anxious.

"Just... keep this hand over here until it warms up," she said, tucking my metal hand under a blanket.

I laughed, looking up at her as she straddled me. Her hair was limp around her now, the hair spray having deflated, and her smile was gentle.

"Take it off," I told her.

She blushed, but reached up for the eye patch, pulling it away. The glass eye that looked to me was a steely grey.

I blinked. I hadn't noticed that before.

I took it away from her, setting it on the bedside table, and I let her touch me. Kisses at first, then gently wandering hands that slipped under my shirt and then removed it. Weaving into my chest hair and teasing at scars hiding in the forest. I closed my eyes as she bent over me, lips planting kisses as she moved. I moved my hands into fists, my chest tightening, heart racing as I imagined it was someone else...

I could just imagine those eyes, like storm clouds. They look to me with approval, and I bite my lip. Fingers prick at my waist band, tugging it lower. I swallow again, my mouth dry, as gentle hands touch me. I sigh, and I feel his hot breath on me. A tentative touch of tongue makes me gasp and twitch, and then he is bolder. Hot, wet lips move over me, and swallow me in, so warm, so wet, so wonderful...

"God, yes."

He hums around and I twitch. My hand finds coarse blanket, and I twist it in my fist. He swallows me whole, and I can feel him gag around me, but he keeps it in, a quiet choking sound, determined to please me. /Oh, baby, you don't have to.../ But it's so wonderful that he does, that he tries, that he wants to please /me/, and then he keeps his attentions to the head, tongue lashing at that bead of nerves on the under belly and it makes me squirm and twitch, and then there's another tight hand at the base, giving all of me attention, and then he's even fondling my balls, and I'm moaning...

"God..."

It feels so fucking _good_ , and I whimper, a high pitched noise, and I can just see it, can almost /feel/ his little smirk against me, and it feels so good, and I want to tell him, and I--

I look up and my brain short circuits when I see Maria instead.

"Fuck!" My cock twitches, confused, and then I slam my head back to the pillow, still pounding, and I slap a hand to my face. "Fucking idiot."

She releases me with a little pop. "That is new."

I look down at her with a scowl, but I gasp as her hands still stroke. I melt a little. "...Sorry. I was..."

She gives me a sideways smirk. "With someone else?"

I look up at her with guilt in my eyes, but she just keeps stroking me.

"...You're evil," I say. As if I've just realised it.

"You've said," she answers. I watch her slide that lovely tongue of hers up the length of me. It makes me shiver.

"...I don't know if I can do this," I groan.

"Well, you _were_..." She gives another squeeze, and my legs twitch. I hear her get up, and I reluctantly look up to see her... still absolutely gorgeous, mind you -- naked form dig around in a drawer. She comes back with a kerchief.

My heart wrenches. _Did it have to be blue?_

She misinterprets, and puts a fist on her hip. "Look, I'm trying to help you out. You need sleep, and you _definitely_  need to be fucked. I love you enough to do this for you."

I chuckle at how absurd that sounds. "Maria, I love you. You're crazy."

"I know! On both accounts." She straddles me again, and I obediently lean my head forward (unpleasant as it is on my neck) and she ties it behind me. "There. Pinata special."

"Is that what you usally call this service?"

She giggles. "Si. And It's usually an extra 50 pesos."

"Well, golly gee. Don't I feel special."

I gasp as I feel her hand on me again. I murmur softly.

"What does he call you?"

"Mm?"

"Your... Hanzo. What does he call you?"

"Um... I don't know." Yes, I do. "McCree-san."

"McCree sand?"

"McCree. San. Japanese thing. They put an honorific at the end."

"McCree-san," she tries again.

"...Yeah." I clear my throat. "And, uh... Cowboy. Obviously."

"Obviously," she laughs. "In English?"

"Yeah." I frown. "At least, I think so. If he called me 'cowboy' in Japanese, I wouldn't have noticed."

"Okay... Cowboy."

I smirk. "You really gonna do that?"

"Oh, please. You are not the first person to fuck me while thinking of someone else."

The thought stings, but only long enough for her lips to touch me again.

I moan softly, feeling those tight little hands and sweet little mouth...

I imagine storms. I imagine his skin, taut with muscle and riddled with memories. I bury my fingers in his hair as he pleasures me, like he's been trained to do it his whole life. He grabs me, pulls me close for rough, angry kisses, and he slaps me away. I snarl, going after him, and he makes me fight for it. He turns against me, and even though I know it's really Maria, I imagine it's him. I plunge into him from behind, one hand on his throat, and one on his hip. He tugs at himself, calling my name, and he feels so /tight/ and wonderful... I claw at his back, and he just slams against me harder. He taunts me, and I find his irreverance invigorating. He threatens to tell his brother if I don't fuck him right, and I press his face to the bed to grind deeper.

I warn him I'm going to come, and he whispers my name, and when I do come to completion, he cries out, "MCCREE-SAN!"

...For a long moment, I stay there, feeling him all around me, and I bury myself into him. I groan, falling against his back.

"...Oh, god."

"Good job, Cowboy," he whispers.

Panting, I lift the kerchief from my eyes. She is watching me over one shoulder, grinning. "You are amazing."

She giggles. Her hips grind against me and I groan, even as my dwindling erection pops out of her. "You ain't too bad yourself, Cowboy," she says. She sighs, face against the sheets. "You've never fucked _me_  that way before."

I laugh, my voice shaking. "You haven't met Genji." I slap her ass and she clenches. Her skin is riddled in bruise marks and bite marks and a couple red slap marks... "Let me see your neck." She lowers that beautiful ass and sits up, her fingers moving aside her hair. I whistle. "Good god."

"You did warn me," she answered with a dark voice.

My eyes glittered. "I did, didn't I?"

She turned to me properly, her hands to my neck, and she took a kiss... I can taste myself (and her) on her lips. "Now I'm jealous."

I chuckled. "Really?"

"Mm. Whoever he is, he's in for a wild ride. And bebito, if he doesn't like it... You can come on back and bring it to me."

"Well, alright." I give her ass a smack.

She smiles at me... And I smile back.

She leans up for another kiss, this one tender... and with a trace of regret. "I don't think I'm going to be seeing you anymore."

I frown at her. "I'm sorry?"

She shook her head. "No, it happens. But you were always one of my favourites." And she hugged me then, arms going around me. I hugged her too. I inhaled her scent, of tequila and lime and salt and sex... And I felt my eyes droop.

"I think I need to sleep," I whispered.

She laughed softly. "That was the idea."


	11. Drive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm going out of my cage, and I've been doin' just fine, gotta gotta be down because I want it all...
> 
> Jesse McCree is the boy who cried wolf. Even Hanzo cannot be patient forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By happy happenstance, listening to "Mr. Brightside" by the Killers as I post this, so that's definitely a thing. YOU GUYS READY FOR MORE? You're totally welcome.

My baby needs a bath something fierce.

I'm referring to my truck, of course. All the dirt roads of Mexico aren't the kindest to the old thing, and if the sun hadn't set several hours ago, I would have given her a wipe down right there. As it is. Even with well-earned rest, I'm still a good night's sleep away from being normal again.

The taste of tequila and lime and Maria still lingers on my lips. Even after huevos rancheroes for lunch and burritos from a place I stopped on the way home. She has a habit of staying with you, her giggle on the air, hips swaying in temptation, my hat on her head...

I had a lot of good times with Maria. I might still, who is to say? But as far as goodbyes go, that one was pretty damned good.

I pull up to the main gate, knowing the rest would be locked and unmanned this time of night, with no one to watch but the security cameras that didn't give a shit if I was a member of Overwatch or a jackrabbit, they would shoot.

Two lights flash at me from the watch tower. I flip back "MCCREE" in morse on my lights. They flash back, and I hear the gate buzz. I wait for her to open wide enough, and my transmission stalls on me.

"Come on," I urge her, turning the ignition again. She revs up again, and I go up the drive to Gibraltar, the gate locking behind me.

There's another one to get on the actual base but this one has a guard in the watch tower, dressed in nondescript security garb with the Overwatch logo stitched here and there. He smiles at me with tired eyes and a cup of joe in one hand.

"You're in late, sir."

"Went down to Mexico for a spell," I told him with a lazy smirk. "You know the old saying. There's a lot of Marias, but you only need one." My finger glints in the light.

He chuckles. "Very good, sir. Welcome back."

I make to look around. "Just don't tell Morrisson what time I got back, okay?"

He laughs. "Sorry, man. I can fudge the books, but the cameras..."

"Yeah yeah yeah." I grin. I catch his name tag. "Night, Rogers. Keep up the coffee. Stay sharp." I turn the ignition again, holding the clutch.

"Of course, sir." The gate blinks green now that I've been triple verified, and I pull her in.

As I drive under the watchtower proper, I wonder idly who is keeping watch tonight.

The compound is quiet at night. The tower itself can get like that, but on a weekend, maybe people are coming and going. Someone might modify the training equipment into a laser tag game, or some flag football. Maybe baseball if someone is feeling nostalgic. Football. Fireworks for special ocassions off the harbour...

...The watchtower is home. Tokyo, Colorado, Paris, Shanghai, Cairo - the towers were all a little different, this one with an ocean, that one with a desert, that one with a mountain, that one with a city. They had their own flavours, but the crew didn't change much. You might not see someone for a while if they were stationed somewhere else, but right now... Overwatch was in Gibraltar.

"Home again home again, jiggity jig."

I found a spot in the hangar that was truck sized and parked her. Roll up the windows, check the place for contraband...

Back seat's clean. Passenger is clean. I pocketed the tequila in the glove compartment, left the gloves. I put my hat on, pocketed my keys, set her to lock and shut the door. I checked her exterior... Didn't see any lizards or cats hiding. --You laugh. Hopped a leg up on my truck to check the bed. No stowaways... Again. You laugh. Tossing the filthy and weather-beaten rub back in, I hopped back down, satisfied.

I patted the body, giving her an affectionate rub. "I'll get you a good wipe down tomorrow, 'kay, girlie?" I even gave my rear view mirror a kiss. "You did good, going all the way down there and back. And you only stalled seven times." I chuckled to myself, digging into my wallet for my ID card. As I do, I count my pesos.

Oh, Maria. I pull out a picture instead of my usual receipt, a love note in Spanish. It has a picture of her, looking absolutely ravishing, probably professionally done. Her hair is big and curly, like she likes, and it's covering her bad eye. She looks young... This picture is probably years over. I turn it over.

_Go get him, Cowboy! Don't forget me. XO Maria_

"Crazy chica," I say, putting it back. She didn't even charge me for last night. I wonder how I should take that.

I slide my ID card in the lock and punch in my pin. It beeps green and I slip in, putting card and wallet back in my pocket. My spurs echo in the hall, but I doubt anyone would be up to hear it. I check my watch, and it's almost 2.

"Eurgh. I hate tiny numbers on my watch."

I stop by the kitchen, thinking I should maybe eat something before I go to bed. I stand in front of the fridge and peruse... Hanzo has made himself a new picture of that jasmine stuff. Some goulash from Reinhardt. I grab something that looks like beans and rice and pop it open, sniffing. It's bland. Pretty, but not exciting. "Lucio still hasn't learned how to use the spice rack," I mutter to myself, putting it back. Then I find a tiny little box I don't recognise. I pop it open and I find-- "Sushi?" I make a face. "That's definitely Hanzo."

"What is me?"

I give a start, and the box goes flying. I manage to catch it, but now I have... moist rice something in my mechanics. "Ah, man..."

He steps forward, into the light, and he looks... Well, he looks like shit. Like he hasn't slept in days.

"Um... Sushi," I said, holding it up. I cleared my throat, carrying it to the sink. "Uh... You're up late."

"So are you."

I rinse off the food, scraping the tiny bits of rice off. I watch him move to the fridge over my shoulder, and he picks up the rest of it.

I swallow hard as he is close enough that his sleeve brushes mine, and he dumps it in the sink. I hold my hands out of the way and he runs the disposal. I watch him out of the side of my eyes as the noise stops.

"You look like shit," I said.

"And yet... You look less so." He leaves the sink, and I feel that tightness in my chest. I wash my hands with soap, knowing someone was going to bitch at me about how it wasn't good for the metal, but I've done worse. I hear him pouring a drink. I shut off the sink and reach for a towel. I turn, leaning my hip against the sink, and I watch him take a long drink of his iced tea.

"You know, I bet that shit would be real tasty with vodka."

He looks at me, his eyes red and exhausted. But he says nothing.

I set the towel aside. "Let me guess. You can't sleep?"

He shook his head, looking down at his drink.

"Is it the new place?"

His shoulders danced, and he shook his head again, a wry smile on his lips. "No... Is not the new place." His eyes rolled to me, as if that alone took effort.

"Then what is it?"

He tilts his head to one side. "I have... a lot on my mind."

I looked down at my hand, remembering how nervous I had been the first time I'd come back to Maria missing a limb... And remembering how she had made me forget about it for the first time since I'd got it. "I know the feeling."

"Where did you go?" I looked up. There was pain in his eyes. "Where did you go that you come back smiling?"

"I went to have a drink with an old friend," I told him. "For a bit of... outside perspective."

"Outside perspective?" He scoffed. "You speak in riddles."

I smile. "Yeah, I do that sometimes. I don't like sharing things I'm not ready to share."

He considered that. And he nodded. And he sipped his drink.

"By the way..." I moved closer, and I let my hand slide over the sleeve of his kimono, and if he clenched, he didn't pull away. "Have you been told today?"

He let out a deep and weary sigh. "McCree-san... Jesse. I tire of these games." He turned in my arms, and his eyes are more than a little hurt. His fingers touched my shirt, and my fingers lingered at the edges of his sleeve. Tired eyes took in my appearance. "You are still wearing the same shirt."

I shrugged. "I went, I drank, I crashed. I slept, I woke, I ate, I came back. Throw in a road side meal here and there."

He struggled with it. "You do not smell like..."

I chuckled. "What, I don't stink? I took a shower. Hanzo, what were you expecting? I run off for a weekend, come home slobbering drunk covered in piss and puke and shit?"

His eyes left mine, wide and guilty.

I sighed, and dropped my arms. "Alright. You're right. Forget it."

I stepped off, my boots feeling heavier than they were before, and I tugged at my jeans, sighing.

I managed to make it to my room without crying, feeling cold and raw and hollow. I toed off my boots and hung up my hat. I emptied my wallet of pesos, and tucked them away. I tossed the wallet on my bedside table and took off my belt, tossing it aside.

I was too tired to be angry, and yet that's what was in my bones. Even though I had no one to blame but myself.

I dropped myself on my bed, and I pulled off the shirt in one go, my hair sticking up in strange places, I'm sure. My fingers touched the fabric. It was nice quality thread, the blues sparkling a little, the reds and purples melding together in a way that wasn't unhandsome... But it just wasn't my colour.

_It was someone else's._

I sniffed at the shirt, looking for a trace of her. Perfume, sex, something... But I found only lime and desert road and cigar smoke.

And I saw a drop of something dark spot the colours.

It felt like there was a heavy load on my shoulders that I had forgotten to take off, and that single tear had unstrapped it from me. All the bone deep weariness I'd felt, that I had gone to Mexico to get rid of, it was still here. Chasing me. But instead of being a burden on my shoulders, it was now a waist-high river of torment swimming around me. I set the shirt aside on my dresser, and wormed out of my jeans, dumping them on the floor. I tried not to think of him, of his mistrusting eyes and indignant questions, red and raw and heartbroken.

I tried to think of Maria, her arms wrapped around me at breakfast. Knowing what I didn't know then, that she hadn't charged me. That she had given me an old token instead of her usual business card.

_"You have to tell him, mi amor," she murmured in my ear, one of my hands on her elbow. "Then when you are ready, you bring him here to me, so I can tell him how incredibly lucky he is."_

_I chuckled. "Sure. Hey, lover. Meet my favourite lady of the night."_

_She smacked me lightly in retribution. "Noooo. You say, this is my friend, Maria. She is -crazy- but she is a good friend." She ruffled my hair. "Then I will tell him all kinds of embarassing stories."_

_"God..."_

_"No, don't bring him into it, bebito. He doesn't like it when you draw attention to him watching."_

...My crazy friend, Maria. Who let me pretend she was you when I didn't have the brass to tell you I loved you. And did it as a favour to me.

I huddle in my blankets, but I still feel cold. And if I heard a tiny knock on my door... I tell myself I imagined it.


	12. AWOL

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack Morrisson looked up, a grim line on his face. "McCree. Just who I wanted to see."  
> I sighed, sticking my hands in my pockets. "I suspected, sir."  
> "Do you realize you're scheduled for training at 1300?"  
> I blinked. "Am I?"  
> His smile widened, but it got was no kinder. "/No/. You were scheduled for training at /800/. I'm down here to see if your truck is still here because you're officially AWOL at the moment."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tamagoyako is a Japanese-style egg omelet, often a little on the sweet side. If you ever go out to a good sushi bar, it'll be on the menu. Comes out as little slabs of yellow as a sashimi. Odd, but a thing. I think it's fiking tasty.

I slept through breakfast. Fuck that noise. I hid in my room until nearly 10, knowing Ziegler would be by to make sure I wasn't dead sooner or later. I took the spurs off my boots for stealth and an old and worn pair of jeans and a silly cartoon shirt Fareeha had got me once, with a little cowboy and rope-words "Woody's Round Up" that I had found amusing. A _red_  shirt on top, thank you very much.

I wouldn't let my subconscious trick me so quickly the second time.

I had polished off my whiskey, so my goal for the day was to get the hell out of here and get breakfast somewhere, or maybe just an early lunch. At a bar, maybe. Enjoy a day to myself like planned...

I'm sure there were things I had to do today, but right now, I didn't give a shit about any of them.

I made it out of the dorms well enough, taking the long and weird way towards training quarters instead of the kitchens. I nearly ran into Hana and Fareeha gossiping about who-knew-what, and then I was in the clear.

I was just marching my way down the walk way back to the hangar when I saw... Someone I did not want to see. I felt my stomach drop to about my knees and make a pathetic flip as I bit my lip and pocketed my keys.

"Morning, sir," I said, saluting one hand.

Jack Morrisson looked up, a grim line on his face. "McCree. Just who I wanted to see."

I sighed, sticking my hands in my pockets. "I suspected, sir."

He closed his tablet. "I have reports you left here Saturday morning somewhere around... 10-00, then showed up this morning around... almost 0200. Did you have clearance or authorization for leaving post?"

 _Imagine if I had managed to leave earlier and he added that to my docket_ , I thought to myself. "Erm... No authorization, sir." I kept my hands in my pockets, and had the decency to look ashamed of myself.

"And just what the hell was so important you left post without authorization if you just came right back?"

I bit my lip. "Personal matter, sir."

"Personal matter," he echoed. "You didn't report to breakfast either."

"Well, I... I was sleepin', sir."

"And yet... You came to the hangar before breakfast."

I opened my mouth, hoping to come up with something clever, but nothing quite...

He gave me a sharp smile. "I have someone in the galley waiting for you to show up." He hugged the clipboard, and yet he didn't feel friendly at all. "Come on, McCree. What the hell are you doing here?"

I considered my options. "Truthfully, sir?"

"Well, obviously."

"I was, uh... Thinkin' of going out for breakfast. You know, cos sometimes whoever is cooking stops around 9... Figured I'd go out for brunch."

"Do you realize you're scheduled for training at 1300?"

I blinked. "Am I?"

His smile widened, but it got was no kinder. " _No_. You were scheduled for training at _800_. Someone knocked on your door for you, and you didn't answer."

I swallowed, remembering hiding in my closet when Angela called on me, thinking she was just being meddlesome. "I was indecent, sir."

"And yet... two hours later. Here you are. Decent. And... in civvies." He looked over his shades at me. "I'm down here to see if your truck is still here because you're officially AWOL at the moment."

I felt ill. "I didn't mean to... cause a fuss."

_Hell. If I'd actually left..._

I could have been court martialed. For _skipping breakfast_.

"Well, that's why you were supposed to be at the debrief we had yesterday. Which... you were also not present for." His eyes narrowed at me. "I understand it's the weekend, but this is why authorization is required. If you'd gone through the proper channels, you would have known about the debrief. Or, at least, have known there was a debrief you missed so you could talk to whoever was on watch at the time you returned to give you the classifieds. But... I have no reports of you doing any such thing."

I swallowed the knot in my throat. "I apologize, sir."

"I'm writing you down for an infraction," he said. He flipped open the clipboard again, making a note. "You are hereby restricted to supply runs - with an escort - and official missions. Other than that, you do not authorization to leave the base without my explicit permission. Understood?"

I sighed, rubbing my eyes. "Aye, sir."

"Good. Now... I think you should go get something to eat," he said, nodding back the way I came. "And if I see you back in this hangar alone, you better have a bucket of suds for that rust bucket of yours."

I scowled. "Aye, sir."

"Dismissed."

He didn't have to make it so god damn sing-song and happy, for fuck's sake. I stalked back to my quarters.

"Hey, Jess--! Ooh. Alright?"

I wish I could have just marched past her, but damn it, Lena will just blink right along with you.

"Not really," I growled.

She grimaced. "You look like you got stepped on." She frowned. "Why you in your civvies?"

"Absolutely no reason," I told her, a cruel smile on her face. "Thank you!"

She blinked at me, but shrugged and went on her way. Nice thing about Lena is, she has a really short attention span.

I wished, not for the first time, I could slam my door as I pulled off my shirts and threw them at my bed.

"FUCKING Morrisson! AURGH!" I kicked a boot across the room and growled.

And then I realised... He hadn't told me _how long_  I was grounded. " _Fuck_."

I took my hat off and threw it to the ground, rifling my hair in my fingers as I let out an aggravated growl.

This time when I heard a knock on my door, I answered it with a scowl.

Fareeha took a step back. "Oh! Sorry. You busy?"

I rolled my eyes at her childish giggle. "What is it, Ree Ree?"

"Well, we were all wondering if you'd died or something. You missed training this morning."

"I heard," I said, smiling again.

She chuckled. "I take it Jack caught you."

"You'd be correct." I sighed, stepping away from my room and grabbing my underarmor and slipping one on. "So. Who's got breakfast?"

She bit her lip. "Hanzo, actually. Or... He was."

I frowned. "Really?" I tugged my shirt down. "What's he making?"

"Tom-go... yucky?"

I raised a brow. "Hell?"

She shrugged. "I'm probably butchering the pronounciation. It's basically an egg omelet, but it's like... Sweet. And he does it in a weird square pan and rolls it up..." I stared.

"Hey, I don't know. It's a Japanese thing. But Genji was squealing like it was Christmas, said it was one of his favourites, and even ate some, much to Doc's chagrin."

I laughed, remembering a time Genji had been gifted candy from family and climbed up on a table to get away from an indignant Doc who insisted food was bad for his system. "I bet that was fun to see."

"He jumped off the roof."

It felt good to laugh. A warm, rumbling thing in my belly. I tagged on a standard issue tee and then the red shirt from before. "Hey. You been told today?"

"I have not," she answered, leaning into the door way.

"Baby. You are fucking gorgeous." I buttoned up the shirt, smiling at her. "And yer mama makes really pretty babies."

She shook her head. "You always say that."

"Cos it's true."

She flipped me off, and I pranced over and scooped her up around the middle. She squealed and I laughed, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

"Help! I've been abducted by a wild beast!"

I growled playfully, nomming on her arm.

"Heeelp! He's eating me!" She was a mess of giggles, and then I started tickling her, and she shrieked, kicking. "AHHH! NO! STOP! JESSE! HAHAHA!!!"

"Fareeha!"

I dropped to the ground, the squirming and squealing Amari in my lap, turning to slap at my chest in "outrage" as Hana popped into the door way.

I waved. "Hi, Hana."

"McCree!" She rushed in and I gave an 'oof!' as she jumped me for a hug, Fareeha laughing. "We were worried about you!"

"Aw, shucks." I let her go, and she helped Fareeha up. Then both of them reached down to help me up.

"HELP! I'm old!" But I just pulled them, and they giggled over me.

"Silly old man!" Hana said, grinning.

"Jesse, mother is going to _kill_  you," Fareeha said. "She is furious with you."

"Yeah, I figured." I got to my own feet and brushed myself off. "Seems like I've pissed off everyone this weekend."

"You're really good at that," Hana noted.

I made her a funny face and she giggled.

Fareeha grabbed an arm, hugging me. I squeezed my hand on her leg. "I'm glad you're back. We really were worried."

"I don't know why..."

"Well, you stormed off after breakfast," Hana said. "Hanzo and Ana and Ziegler were all convinced you had some kind of personality bug."

"Pbbbt. That's ridiculous."

"It's true! It was Doc's idea." Fareeha giggled. "She was there for movie night, remember? When we watched _World War Z_? Everyone is infected with something now."

"That's pathetic... As it is. I need food!" I started moving, and they clung on, giggling. "Who did my training this morning?"

"Morrison did," Fareeha said, eyes wide. "It was the weirdest thing! We thought you'd really died."

"I admit, that is mighty concerning..."

When I walked into breakfast with two youth attached to either arm, I could almost _feel_ the sigh of relief in the room.

"Amari. I think this one's yours," I said, marching with them towards Ana.

"Oh, I am going to give you a good talking to, ibn," she warned me. But Fareeha detached, and moved to her mother.

"There's a list!" I warned her. "Jack got me first! I get to hang out with you guys for a while, wheeeee!"

I moved on, Hana a giggle fit as her tiny feet perched on my boot, hands clutching to my big arms. "Alright, Songbird. Where are you going?"

"To Shimada!" She pointed to the gaming corner where an exhausted looking samurai was looking at us with tired eyes.

"As you wish. Hup!" She was still squealing as I brought her close, and she hopped off to sit at the table where they would often play chess or Go together. He looked to her with the faintest smile, and then looked up to me, eyes red and aching.

"Mornin'," I said, tugging my hat. _I'm sorry_ , I wanted to say.

He only nodded softly, and turned his attention to Hana, who was telling him about how everyone had thought McCree was dead but he /wasn't/, and here was, Fareeha found him...

I gave myself a stretch, still feeling pleasantly sore from Maria, then less pleasantly sore about the driving and the days of less-then-wonderful sleep. I marched up to the kitchen, where Angela was flitting about.

"About time you decided to join us," she noted. "Morisson is looking for you."

"He already found me. Coffee, please."

She gave me a disapproving eye and got me a cup. "You missed debrief yesterday."

"I heard."

"And training this morning."

"Also heard. From Morisson."

When she gave me the mug, she smirked. "Aha. So. What did you get?"

"Officially? An infraction." I took a swig, and sighed at the beauty of Europeans making coffee that kicked like espresso. "And house arrests. Outside of supply runs and missions, my ass is stuck on base."

"Oh dear," she said, with no sympathy whatsoever. "No trips to your Mexican whore, then."

"Hey," I chided. I knew Hanzo was still in the room. "It's not like that."

"Oh really? Is there a ring?" She looked me up and down. "You don't trust her enough not to get tested regularly."

"Angie..."

She brought her voice to a hiss. "You are a supervising officer here. You need to be a better example. Better than... smoking all the time and drinking all the time and sleeping with who knows who..."

I sighed. "Doc, you can be a kill-joy sometimes, you know that?"

"Why? Because I'm sensible?"

I snort. "Is that why you think I have some... personality-altering infection of some kind?"

"It was a thought!" she protested. "Until you waltzed back in here in the dead of night, no regard to anyone after storming off for not the first time in a fortnight, and now look at you. All giggles and laughter and carrying around the children like Papa Giant!"

I set down my coffee mug. "Now, Angie--"

"No! It's reckless! You've always been reckless, but this is the first time you've actually _abandoned_  your post to go... scratch your itch! I'm ashamed of you! I would warn you not to be so smug with 'house arrest' as you call it, because I promise you, it means that if _we_ need anything, you will be the first one we call on!"

...I could see this was a thing. I looked out the corner of my eye to see Ana glaring at me from her usual table, coffee before her. Behind her, Hana was playing on her cell phone, her sensei nowhere to be seen. I sighed.

"Look. Angie. I'm sorry. I was... stressed out. Shit was getting to me. I had to get a change of scenery, okay?"

"Well, I hope it was good enough, because you won't get any more _change of scenery_  for a while." She turned back to the kitchen. "What are you eating?"

I sighed, knowing I was going to have to eat _something_  or she wouldn't let me rest. And I'm pretty sure she'd report me to Jack for good measure. "You got the yucky eggs left?"

She rolled her eyes. "Good lord, Americans. _Tamagoyaki_. Ta-ma-go-ya-ki," she said, enunciating each consonant. "Tamago-yaki."

"Tamagoryaki."

"Oh, close enough." She served me a plate of yellow rolled up egg things, and as Fareeha had said, they were _sweet_. Not donuts sweet or sugared strawberries sweet, but just a taste of syrup on your eggs sweet. Kind of like that tea he had made, lightly sweetened, but not cloying.

"This is pretty good," I said.

She gave me a look. "You should tell him next time you see him."

I pointedly didn't look at her. "I heard Genji jumped off a roof for some of this stuff."

She slapped a towel on the counter top. "That man is ridiculous! It was like Marrakesh all over again!"

I chuckled. "Must really like his hometown goodies..."

"Ibn..." Ana called, and a chill went down my spine. "I want to talk to you."

I braced myself. "Thanks, Angie."

"Oh, I'll give you some more later, don't worry," she said. "You're getting tested again."

"You're a saint," I growled, and I gathered my plate and coffee and moved to Ana's table.

She leaned over the table with all the charm of a poison cobra. "Ibn... I have missed you."

"Apparently everyone hates me right now," I said, taking another bite of rice.

"Mm. It's true. [You act like a bitch for two weeks, keep storming off at breakfast, and then you go AWOL for two days.]" Any time she slips to Spanish, I know I'm in trouble. "Explain it to me, child." She even took my coffee mug to sip, and I noted hers was empty. I wasn't getting it back.

I considered how to explain it. "I'm..." I shuffled my lips. "I was worrying over something. Probably for nothing."

She snorted. "Jesse McCree, do not dance with me. Speak plain."

I looked over to Angie, and then back to Ana. "Putting it plainly, I needed something. I've been tormenting myself thinking I could get it here, only to do so ineffectually. To the point it's become painful. So I went to Mexico and took care of it in a way I know works."

She regarded me carefully. "You speak as if you went to get a shot of heroin or something."

"Oh... I wish it were that simple."

Her eyes narrowed, and she leaned forward, as if she could figure it out if she looked hard enough. I let her look, a soft smile on my lips. Not even in a million years, I don't think she could figure it out. I still hadn't figured it out. How could she?

She leaned away from me, but there was no satisfaction of discovery. "...I do not read you, ibn. Try better."

I turned to Angie. "Hey, Doc? Can we get some coffee over here? She's stealing mine."

"Good!"

Ana giggled and I rolled my eyes. "Honestly. You women keep jumping me."

"Bah! I can get Jack and Genji and Hanzo and Reinhardt in, too! That samurai might be new around here, but he's already got you pegged, eh?"

I tried not to let that hurt, but... it did. I played with my food. "You think so?"

"Aye, I think so," she agreed, smug.

"Do you think he's fitting in alright?"

She shrugged. "It's still early for him. Learning the languages. The names. The people. Not helpful with you being crazy, you're usually a good person for people to start out with, easy going but not too intimidating. He is a quiet man, shoved into a big house with lots of people in it."

I ate, listening. "What about him personally? Do you like him?"

"I like him, sure. It's nice as hell to have someone _quiet_  around here for once."

I chuckled. "Yeah. He's very zen. Not like Genji at all."

"Oh no... No, those two are so different. Genji pushes boundaries because he doesn't like them. Hanzo respects them, and pushes himself _within_ them. If we could break him of that, he could really open up his skillset, but... Well, then we might get another Lucio." She sipped. "Or _you_."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," I scoff, taking another bite.

"The way you run off? It _is_ a bad thing, ibn," she insisted. She leaned towards me. "Jesse, we were genuinely worried about you. You've never gone AWOL like this before."

I finished my breakfast, and cleaned my mouth with a napkin. I look to her with the most sincerity I could muster. "I didn't mean to cause a big fuss. Truly." I hold out a hand to her, fingers up, and she wants to hesitate, but she takes them. I squeeze her hand. Her angry demeanor falls, and the worried mother shines through instead.

"Do not run off like that, ibn," she said. "You scare me."

"Did he earn his coffee back?" Angela asked, coming to us with a pot.

"Yes, I suppose he has." She returned my mug and Angela topped them both.

"I am sorry, Mama," I said. She rolled her eyes and I chuckled.

"Don't call me Mama," she grumps, but she is smiling, too. "You are too fucking cute for that."

I teased her knuckles with the bristles of my beard and she squirmed with an indecent sound.

"Ibn, please," she purrs. "I am an old woman, my libido is worse than yours."

I laugh and blow her a kiss.

She plays to catch it and put it in her pocket for later. "You know, you also need to go apologize to poor Hanzo. Reinhardt and me, we know how you can get sometimes. But ibn... He doesn't know your rage. How quick it can be fixed, or how long it can linger. He does not know. You must reach out him. He is part of the family, no?"

I laughed in my nose. She was so close to the two pieces of it...

"Yeah. I will." I sipped my coffee. "And hey. Have you been told today?"

She chuckled, and leaned forward. "No, I have not. Tell me."


	13. Notice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Jack and co. put Jesse through the wringer, he gets a mite suspicious that there's more to his AWOL than at first appearance...
> 
> Did he miss something?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of COURSE his name is James. Why wouldn't it be?
> 
> I keep saying this is almost done, because once the challenge is issued it goes straight to Rising Star, but damn it, something else always comes up. Which is the whole premise of this story anyway, so YAY! But still.
> 
> Jesse's a fucking idiot, god bless him.

Angela wasn't kidding. I finished breakfast, spent an ineffectual hour looking for Hanzo, and then reported to training at 1230 in full tactical, just in case Jack wasn't really bluffing. Because in my experience, Jack Morrisson doesn't bluff.

And boy howdy.

He pulled out the gauntlet. Extra guns, extra bots, extra hurdles... Extra everything. I swallowed hard, knowing for damn sure this wasn't for the kids. And yeah. The only ones there were Angela (NEVER a good sign), Reinhardt, and Jack. Two offense, a tank and a healer. I was gonna get creamed. They spent two and a half hours raking me through the coals, and by the end of it, I was ready to pay rent for a bunk in med bay. Ana was unkind with her 'congratulatory' slap on the back, with only a trace of heal to it. Angela went cheap with hers, too. No anaesthetics. No pain killers. Just tight bindings and a sadistic smile.

I went to the kitchen to get my _own_  ice. Of which there wasn't much. Or even peas. I had to steal someone's ice cream (and I promised myself I'd repace it) and went back to my room with a spoon for when it started to melt. Everything ached, and I took an unpleasant sponge bath to work around the bandages and treat the 'minor abrasions' the erroneously named Mercy had deemed too insignificant to treat. I told myself that the next time I was irrational enough to skip country for personal reasons, I would be damned sure I stole a manifesto of the weekend's festivities before I did so.

...Which gave me a thought.

While I let the ointment quiet my wounds, I rifled through the disaster area that was my 'desk' and found the last week's manifesto. I frowned, turning the weekend over and seeing nothing written. Setting it aside, I pulled the standard issue tablet from my drawer that was dusty from disuse. I rubbed it down with a mostly-clean tee and flipped it on. The battery blinked red at me, and I plugged it in to try again.

As usually happens when I actually do this, she started vomitting old comms data and updated reports and manifestos and my e-mail that I never checked and a slew of missed calls... I let her sit for a minute while I gently moved my good hand over the planes of my back to catch anything I--

OW. --missed. I popped some more cream and massaged it over a hefty bruise that I think was me connecting to the corner of a wall in round 5. Concussion grenades were not my favourite.

I sighed, noting I might not have as much trouble sleeping tonight, and took a swig of the ramune drink I'd swiped from the fridge. It had a strange taste. Not unpleasant, but... bizarre. But more importantly, it was cold. It wasn't beer, but I was trying to convince my physiology it totally was, just not a brand it had ever tasted before.

The damned thing stopped beeping, and I pulled it into my lap. I started tapping, then remembered this hand didn't _work_  with this thing. I growled, switching the soda to my left, brushed my wet fingers on the blankets, and tried again.

I scrolled allllll the way to the bottom, looking for the datemarks of the weekend. Saturday was marked as a day of leave. An optional sharpshooter competition that night at 8, sponsored by Ana and Hanzo. Sunday, there was an informal request to the debrief room, and I opened it. _All agents not at designated posts, please report to debriefing room 203 at 1000._  Kind of late in the day for a last-minute mission... I opened it up, but that's all it said. I could imagine Fareeha or Lena or someone else who knew I didn't use this damned thing would have knocked on my door to tell me about it, only to find I still hadn't returned. I could imagine Jack going through role call and demanding to know where I was, if anyone had seen me, and where I had gone. I could imagine crickets, and maybe some growing concern as he made the note.

 _Damn_ , I thought. Maybe if I'd brought the damned thing with me... That is what they were designed for, anyway. I really should use this thing more.

I backed out of the debrief notice to an email, sent approximately 1600-ish, also yesterday.

_Dear agents, I want to thank everyone for their work this weekend, both to Ana for that clever archery distraction, and Genji and Angela for their help getting the catering set up. We are proud to welcome Hanzo Shimada to our crew, and a very happy..._

I swallowed, but the lump in my throat didn't go away.

_...a very happy birthday._

I am a fucking idiot.

I rubbed a hand over my face. No wonder the punishment was so severe for a simple AWOL. I'd skipped off to Mexico for the weekend before to no effect, that was weird. I mean, yeah, usually I had more forethought and talked it up for a couple weeks and did a wink-wink-nudge-nudge don't do nothing too exciting while I'm gone, routine. And sometimes they would let me know hush-hush if something was up that weekend, but usually it wasn't a big deal. But this...

He'd only been here a couple months. He was scared, surrounded by strangers, and then he kept getting in fights with me. Jack went out of his way to have /catering/, which screamed 'sushi party' to me, and they wanted it to be a big deal to make him feel welcome and wanted. And me, I had gone AWOL. I missed the distraction on Saturday night when they were setting it up, I missed the birthday cake and debrief (and really, the debrief was probably just an excuse to get everyone in the same room for cake, but I had missed it) and probably the sushi party lunch or dinner after...

I imagine he had been up so late playing video games with Hana. And he had stopped into the kitchen for his own drink, and ran into my stupid face. I had been so self-centered, thinking he was thinking about _me_ , when he had his own shit going on, and I was just making it worse for everybody.

I sighed. _Jesse James McCree, you fool_. Damned straight I owed him an apology. I winced as I pulled a shirt on, and reached for that bottle of rice wine that Hana had badgered me into getting weeks ago (had she known?) and that I blessedly hadn't given him yet, or I'd have nothing to give. I palmed it, trying to act nonchalant as I put on my hat and slipped out of my room, trying yet again to think...

If I was a Shimada samurai, where would I hide?


	14. Sake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jesse tries to make a statement only for his target audience to have decidedly left the building. Enjoy his foolishness, and the rare moment of weird pussy-footing around #McHanzo while Jesse overcomes his technophobia to have a real, private conversation. While Hanzo is god knows where.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For reference, I imagine Hanzo mildly buzzed (but not drunk) off sake having a fucking fish bowl of actually Japanese ramen (the GOOD SHIT) for a decadent late lunch when this is happening. He may or may not have a gossiping Ana next to him who may or may not be listening in. It's hard to say, I'm writing for Jesse.
> 
> Also: Fuck you, Hanzo. You know he's going to be trying to get that marble out for MONTHS. Sadistic fuck.

"Hey! Shimada!"

I see his shoulders tense, even before he turns around. "What do _you_  want?"

"I'm looking for your brother," I say. Jogging in my condition isn't fun - everything aches. Every piece of cloth is rubbing on something, and the jangling just adds a song and dance to my pain. "I... swear I did not know."

"What? That you missed his birthday yesterday?" He crossed his arms. "It's in his file."

"Well, yeah..." I rubbed a hand on the back of my neck. "I know that. But I hadn't... you know. Looked."

His snort sounds weird when it's metallic. "Jesse, of all the people in the compound, you are usually the one plotting their favourite breakfast for their birthday. I am surprised at you."

"I swear, I didn't know. I mean, I was plannin' to look, but..."

And his eyes caught what was in my hand. He reached out to still me, and he turned the label.

"...This is his favourite." He looked up at me sharply. "You're not supposed to leave the compound. How do you have this?"

"Oh, uh... I got it a couple weeks ago. After that first, um..."

Red eyes blink. "Yes."

"...Right. Well, Hana and I did supply run. She helped me get your favourites. Yours, his, Angie's... I apologize with food, okay?"

He shook his head and crossed his arms. "You're not supposed to buy alcohol on supply runs either."

"I technically didn't. We did the supply run, we dropped it off, and _then_  I went to get it. On my own dime and time, thank you. But she was insistent."

"Perhaps because she knew his birthday was yesterday." He tilted his head to one side.

"...Probably," I admitted. "So, ah... Where is he?"

He shrugged. "Don't know. He's off post."

My face fell. "He is?"

"Yep. He made breakfast this morning -- volunteered, actually -- and then Morrison gave him the rest of the day off. He's probably in town, drinking... sake somewhere."

I swallowed, looking down at the bottle. _Off post where I can't find him_.

"Well... That explains that." I sighed. "Alright. I gave it a shot."

Genji laughed. "Oh, you won't get off that easy. Hold on to it. You'll get your chance." He danced on his feet, as if ready to leave this conversation.

"Say, Genji?"

"Yes, Jesse?"

_"I asked him for advice," he said, softly. "He knew you well."_

My thumb worried at the bottle. "When I do see him... I do wanna apologize. How should I go about doin' that?"

He blinked at me. And his posture changed into something like puzzlement. "...You know, it is strange. I remember having a similar conversation with him."

I give him a sheepish smile. "I know. He told me."

He eyes me sideways. "For Oniisan... He is very proper in his ways. Always one for tradition. He takes comfort in it."

 _He sticks with what's safe_ , I think to myself, remembering what Ana had said about 'respecting boundaries'. Knowing the box he was expected to stay in, and maximizing himself within those confines. I thought of how quickly he had picked up my silly litte game, and delighted in it, knowing he was safe to do so.

"Alright."

"And be _polite,_ " he insisted, finger in my my chest. I tried not to grimace too much. "You are so rude sometimes. Boorish and brash. And disrespectful."

"I don't mean to be..."

"'I'd like tie you up'?" he asked me. "You do not say such things to another man. Especially the first born son of Shimada. Especially in front of others. _Especially_  in front of his brother."

_His chuckle was so quiet, I could only catch a tiny hint of air from his nose. "Not many people have the audacity to tie up a Shimada," he answered._

...And I realized. _Genji -is- the box_. Good lord.

"Right. I can see how that would be... disrespectful."

_"Perhaps the problem then... is not us. It is the other people, surrounding us."_

Genji would never understand. Even if Hanzo and I were... whatever we could be. Genji would inadvertently try to keep shoving him in that box. If me and Hanzo were to be anything, we would have to stay in that box. At least for a while. Until it was safe.

I sighed. I'm not used to boxes. "...I appreciate the advice, Genji." I clapped my hand to his shoulder, and it made a strange clanging. "I do."

"If you mess with my brother again," he said, quiet. There is a mischief to it, but also a hardness of sincerity. "This is the first thing I pull off of you."

I gasped, pulling it away. "But I need that! I mean... I'd be all off-kilter..." I make as if to balance with my arms, even though one is weighed down with a bottle of wine.

He laughed. "You are a strange man," he said, not for the first time.

"Yeah, well. Some people find that endearin'."

He shook his head and turned to go. "Goodbye, Jesse."

"Bye, Genji. Thanks!"

I turned the other way, chewing on this new piece of information. When I saw Mei and Hana coming down the way, chattering over their handheld video games, I stepped aside, palming the bottle behind me and giving them a polite tip of my hat... Not that they were paying that much attention. I got myself back to my room and I set the bottle on my bedside table. My eyes couldn't help but notice the way it nestled in with that shirt... The shirt with the colour that was someone else's.

I took a breath. There was a good chance Hanzo was better at following the rules than I was. If he was to go off post, he would not only inform the guard and get permission, he might even tell them where he was, when he'd be back... And he'd _definitely_  bring his tablet.

Do not judge me if I hunt and peck. I do not use this new-fangled tech more than I have to. I poked around in the messenger, which was over populated with default messages that everyone got, but I found one dated back a week or so from an unknown contact. I opened it.

_McCree-san. This is Hanzo Shimada. Can we speak?_

That lump in my throat again. I did the math in my head, and I figured this was... a little before that conversation in the loading dock. He had tried to contact me in private, and bullheaded me doesn't use the damned thing. I added him to my contacts and started a reply.

 _Hey. It's me. I'm sorry about missing your birthday. I swear I didn't know. I mean, I always meant to look it up, but... I didn't realise it was so close_. I chewed my lip. _I meant no disrespect. I apologize for my rudeness. Happy belated birthday, Hanzo._

I hit send, and it just felt so damned anti-climactic. I reached for my drink, almost grabbing the sake, but grabbed the ramune instead. It did have a nice flavor to it.

I considered the drink, and set it back on the table before typing out another message. _Also, I stole one of your lychee drinks. Word of advice: don't piss off two medics. You have to make ice packs of whatever you can find in the fridge._

I felt a little bit better sending that one. I wasn't one for gloomy prostrating. But comedy, I could do.

He pinged back. _See if you can get the marble out without breaking the bottle_.

I blinked. And I looked at the bottle. In the neck of the thing was a little marble... The fucker had been challenging enough to open, what with the illustrated instructions being in Japanese, I had figured dropping the marble was the winning of it. I didn't know you had to get it out.

"The hell?"

_You're joking, right?_

A moment of typing... _Why? Can you not do it?_

I mean... I could think of quite a few ways to get the marble out, but not without breaking the bottle.

_There's gotta be a trick to it._

_Oh, there always is._

I smiled, taking another swig. There wasn't a whole lot of drink to it. I imagine it was the novelty of it that was what sold it.

_I imagine that's why you like these things. For the game of it._

I wonder if Hana would know. She's seen him drink these things.

_Something like that. I admit I asked for it on a whim. I did not think you could find it here/_

"Ho-ho, really?" I shook my head, smug. "Well, guess what?" _See, that's why I'm the best when it comes to supply runs. I actually figure that shit out._

_Really? Because Hana-chan says she did the finding._

I huffed. _Well, she helped._

_Mm-hmm._

I could just see his smug little smirk, all... Snidely Whiplash. I downed the last of the ramune and set it with his sake and shirt... I looked. Recognizing the trifecta. Something in me ached... And it wasn't my body.

_Speaking of Hana helping. I have a bottle of sake here with your name on it._

_Really?_

_Yep. I have it on good authority it's your favourite._

I tap my fingers idly on the tablet. I hate this waiting. You get all anxious that they're typing something really long, when they could have just gone for a piss or something...

 _Do you drink sake?_  came the answer, finally.

 _Can't say I've ever tried it,_ I replied. _I'm usually a whiskey and tequila kind of guy. I like my spirits with bite._

 _I am not surprised to hear this._ And then... _Perhaps you can try it. We can drink it together._

I chew on my metal thumb (don't tell Angie) as I ponder that. It sounded almost like a date... And yet, drinking on the compound would be hard to get away with. There aren't a lot of places to hide from the cameras. Inebriation on post could be another infraction... That's why I tried to keep my drinking to my room, when I did it.

_We could do that. Provided you don't hate my guts. Seems I pissed everyone off this weekend._

I was tempted to add, _Please forgive me_. I didn't mean it. I didn't know...

_Maybe not everyone. But you had us all worried._

That lump in my throat... _I didn't mean to cause a fuss. Honest. I've done it before, left for the weekend, and come back. Just maybe not with such short notice._

And then, the question I was dreading the most... But expecting. _Where do you go?_

I really wished I had some whiskey right now. _Shitty little coastal town in Mexico. Good day's drive away._

_With an old friend, you said._

_Yeah._

_Forgive me if this seems too forward, but that sounds like a bad excuse._

I give a soft breath. It probably was... If it wasn't him. _I had a lot of shit going on in my brain. I needed to get a change of scenery to really get perspective on it._  I felt that tension rising...

I looked around at my room, a usual mess, but for once, there wasn't anyone to interrupt us.

Problem is, he wasn't really here.

_Did it help?_

I looked over to the little corner of my shelf where my pesos - and my picture of Maria - was hiding.

 _Yeah. It did._  I hit send, and I started typing more... He interrupted.

_I am glad. I am happy to see you smile again._

My heart twisted... and I kept typing.

 _Fact of the matter is, yes. She's a whore. I've been seeing her a long time. Since back before_ (I chewed on mentioning my hand... and cut it out) _Since before the First Watch ended. Her little town was always a safe haven for me when I needed to hide. She's not just... for that. She's become a friend and a confidante. I went down there to spill my troubles, because she always gives me good advice when I'm too trapped in my head to do something about it._

I took a breath and hit send. I didn't expect him to understand... A lot of people didn't. It's why I didn't like to mention her at all, except that Angela had a big mouth and a judgemental mentality about stuff like that.

I brace myself when he responds. _I remember asking you that same thing._

Oh, god. Put me through a million rounds of high intensity, you-aren't-meant-to-survive-this training with body-checking tanks and apathetic commanders and stingy healers all damned day, and I can heal up. But heart ache kills me every fucking time.

_Yes. And I appreciate that. But there's an old saying: you can't put out a fire from inside the house._

It felt stupid as soon as I sent it. Riddles! No one likes riddles. Hell, _I_  don't like riddles.

_So... Am I the fire in the house?_

I took a deep breath. _Something like that._

I eyed his bottle of sake... Wondering what kind of kick it would have.

_So what did your friend say?_

Bless him, for humouring me. I just outright admitted I had a Mexican whore, and he still calls her 'friend'. _That I was hopeless. And stupid._  And to tell you how I feel. _And that I needed to stop running from my problem and embrace it._

_...Am I a problem?_

I sighed. _Not exactly. It's not you. It's... everyone else._

_I remember this part._

_Exactly._

That felt stupid... And yet, I felt like there was an understanding. Kind of. What the _hell_  am I doing? I'm dancing around the Christmas tree for no fucking reason. It's _right there._

_So when you were going to tell me... What were you going to tell me?_

What was I going to tell him? My fingers hesitated over the keyboard. _That you're driving me crazy._

_I am sorry._

_Don't be. I haven't had anyone drive me crazy like this in a long time. I don't know what to do with it anymore._

There's a long pause. _I drive you crazy... but is a good thing?_

_Sort of. I told you, I'm not real good with talking._

_I see._

I feel like an idiot. I'm talking in circle, and I'm a fucking idiot, and--

_I am going to come home now. I would like to try this sake you bought for me. If it makes you feel better, I can come to your quarters, or you can come to mine. I know there are rules about alcohol on the premises._

That's awful forward, I think. And yet, my heart soars.  _Mine? They beat me up good today. I should rest._

_Very well._

He doesn't text back after that. I find myself sitting in my room, completely baffled. Did I just tell him...? Did I not? What did I just do?

But as I look around, I realize my room is a fucking _mess_  and I move to at least clean it up a bit before Hanzo gets here.


	15. Surveillance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Angela, I swear to god. You lurk around this kitchen like you're ready to catch a leprechaun or something." I sipped my tea, looking to her. "You really gonna keep spyin' on me?"  
> "Absolutely." She crossed her arms and leaned on the doorway. "Did I just see you put in a load of laundry?"  
> My head flinched back. "Are you followin' me?"  
> "Yes, I am. I'm on orders." She smirked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't hate Angela, I swear! I just see her being a bit of a snobbish doctor, particularly to agents like Jesse, who insists on destroying himself with drinking and smoking (and apparently casual sex) and she thinks he's a bad influence on the kiddies. She's extra hard on him. I get an almost Giles from Buffy feel off of her.

Five minutes can feel like five hours when there's consequence on the line. I didn't count the minutes of me cleaning, but each moment felt excruciating. Partly because OH GOD HANZO IS COMING and partly because OH GOD THEY MURDERED ME TODAY. I scooped up dirty laundry into a basket that seems to only get use when I'm out of clean undies, and it looked pretty stuffed. _I need to do laundry_. I straightened up the closet and shut it, and I had half a mind to put that damned shirt away, but I put it on instead. _It's not my colour, it's someone else's_. I slipped into the kitchen for a pair of wine glasses -- and pointedly answered Angela's suspicious glares with one of my own. I fingered 'I'm watchin' you' at her and she just smirked at me.

"You know, alcohol can prevent blood clotting," she called after me. "With your injuries, you really should abstain!"

"Wouldn't need no abstainin' if you did your job! I'm a hurtin' man!"

"You earned it!"

I couldn't help but snicker to myself as I slipped back in the dorms. Angela Ziegler was a good Doc, which sometimes made her a horrible human being. But after the years I'd known her, I couldn't fault her for it anymore. It's just who she was. I muttered something sing-songy under my breath as I cleared off my bedside table, setting up the sake and glasses, hiding any contraband or questionable material... I was in such a fluster, that I found myself 'finished'. And tapping my fingers on my knee.

I exhaled. _Any minute now_.

I checked my watch. A lousy 20 minutes. _Ah, hell. Felt longer than that._

I checked my tablet. No messages.

I grumped to myself, debating.

I picked up the laundry and set it in to wash, then hit the kitchen again for a glass of... I debated at his iced tea, and took a small glass.

"Oh, now you're just overcompensating."

I bit my tongue. "Angela, I swear to god. You lurk around this kitchen like you're ready to catch a leprechaun or something."

She snorted. "A leprechaun? Just you."

I sipped my tea, looking to her. "You really gonna keep spyin' on me?"

"Absolutely." She crossed her arms and leaned on the doorway. "Did I just see you put in a load of laundry?"

My head flinched back. "Are you followin' me?"

"Yes, I am. I'm on orders." She smirked. "Who are you cleaning for?"

I took another sip, and put the tea jug back, eyeing her sideways. "You're startin' to creep me out."

"Who is it? You rush about to clean for inspection, and that's about it."

"You're followin' me!" I protest, gesturing to her with a hand. "Why wouldn't you inspect my room next?" I take another sip, and _damn_  that is tasty.

"Aha! So you _do_  have contraband." Her eyes glitter.

I roll my eyes. "Yeah. My Mexican whore had bed bugs. I'm being safe."

Her eyes went wide. "What?"

I grinned. "Pre-emptive strike." I nodded.

She looked at the shirt I was still wearing and stepped away. "You're crazy."

I definitely felt insane. "Quite probably." I downed the last of my drink. "Excuse me."

She pressed herself against a wall to avoid touching me. I heard her curse in... something Germanic and bolted for the showers.

 _That was evil, I_ told myself.

_But it was funny._

_She's gonna get you later._

_Quite probably._

Still snickering to myself, I found the nearest security station and poked about. I checked the agent manifest, ignoring the agents labeled "away on mission" and found Operative Dragon and Operative Horus were presently marked off-post.

I felt my heart leap to my throat. _Ana?_

I could just imagine her, giggling over a glass of wine, telling him embarassing stories about me, or him showing her our confusing text conversation and her realizing...

I logged out of the system and took a step back. Suddenly I was scared. If Ana knew... Well. There were a few ways that could go. Maybe she would quietly be supportive, which would be best case scenario. Or maybe she would get drunk and think it would be a great idea to tell _everyone_  that Jesse "Deadeye" McCree, self-proclaimed Bad-Ass Mother Fucker and veritable embodiment of machismo, had gone and gotten himself all gay-man glamorized. Genji would murder me. Fareeha would fuss over me and want to get me (or Hanzo) all dolled up and send us on dates like Barbie dolls. Angela would have a field day about HIV testing and more, and Torbjorn would never look me in the eye again.  
It's like if I had a sister and a mother and a best friend in one, and she was accidentally out there having lunch with my crush. It felt so fucking high school, and it was terrifying.

I swallowed hard. Genji would definitely murder me. I don't even know what Jack would do. Winston would probably be mildly confused but take it. Hana would probably be as bad as Fareeha, although I'm sure Lucio would have his mind blown.

 _Damn it_ , I thought. I didn't even know if this was even a real thing or not, and already it could be ruined. It could depend on how much Hanzo showed her, and how drunk she was at the time and if she thought it would be a good idea to share the 'good news' with everyone or keep her damn mouth shut. It could go so many ways.

 _I'm a goner_ , I thought, not for the first time. Just as the security screen flashed.

Gate number 3: Operatives Dragon and Horus returning to base.

I didn't bother to think. I hauled ass to gate three, fearing the worst.


	16. Sake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It almost feels anti-climactic, but Jesse manages to give Hanzo his apology.
> 
> The response is not what he anticipated. Not that he's complaining, mind you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. switchy top-top is hands down the very best sex. If you've never had it, I feel bad for you, SON!  
> 2\. yes, he's wearing a Dragonball Z shirt. Why wouldn't he?   
> 3\. someone asked specifically for Genji to punch Jesse, so here you go.  
> 4\. if you don't already know what poster that is, Google "Johnny Cash". Yes, that one. I feel bad for you, son.  
> And bonus: For the upload, listen to "Sucker For Pain" from the Suicide Squad OST. Oh yeah. Follow up with "Tokyo Drift" for the Yakuza special, too. (I have a playlist on Spotify, you should check it - #McHanzo!) ...I won't like. Japanese fetish is steadily growing the more #McHanzo I write. And I was always a fan.
> 
> IF YOU GUYS LIKE WHAT I DO, please check out my Patreon! Patreon.com/LoonyMoonyProductions - little as $1/mo., cool sneak peeks and shit, and you get to see some of my original work, which I'm also very proud of.

"...You just got to be patient, you know? _Feel_  it. Wait for it. Sometimes it is a long time coming, and you want to go out and grab it by the horns yourself, but you have to wait for that moment."

I skidded to a halt at the end of the hall, and they both started at me.

"Ibn, what are you doing?" Ana protested, waving at me. "You still wearing that shirt? It's been three days! You should clean it."

"Everything else is in the wash," I answered, grinning. "Where'd you guys go without me?"

"I was giving my good friend Hanzo a _birthday lunch,_  thank you," she said.

Hanzo was glowing, his eyes still a little tired, but there was a warmth to him, and a soft smile on his lips.

"Yeah, I heard about that," I said, adjusting my hat.

"Good! Then now you know why I said you should apologize to him!" She waved me away. "Useless man. Have you seen my daughter?"

"Not recently," I answered, my eyes on him.

He had a shy smile, arms wrapped in a handsome black leather jacket. A black t-shirt with a green dragon on it, and a strange anime character with golden balls with stars on them.

"Apologize!" she called out, as she turned the corner.

"You really should change that shirt," he said, gentle.

"I will." I felt my hands swinging uselessly at my sides, and damn it, why did this feel so damned high school? "But everything _is_  in the wash, actually. I just put some in."

"Mm." He moved forward, a brightly coloured plastic gift bag hanging from his elbow. "Were you washing up for me?"

"Maybe."

He eyed me sideways, and damn if that weren't the prettiest smile. "I am honoured."

I snorted. "Honey, if you knew what it looked like before hand, you'd understand."

He looked me up and down, catching a bandage on one arm. "You said you needed to rest."

"I do. I really should. But, uh..." I looked down at my hands, hating the way they didn't match. "Well. I reckoned a simple AWOL shouldn't deserve the kind of punishment they gave me. And I... Well, I'm bad about my e-mails."

He nodded. "You got the message late."

"...Yeah." I tucked my hands in my pockets. "I did mean to look it up. I mean, I always do, but..." I gave a small shrug that felt so... wanting. "I didn't realize it was coming up so soon."

He nudged into me, and I looked to him in surprise. His smile wrinkled his eyes a little bit, so you only got tiny sparkles of stormy grey eyes. "Still. Thank you anyway."

I realized I was following his lead by a half-step, and we were in a wing of the dorms I wasn't used to. I felt myself tense when I put two and two together, and realized I was going to _his_  room. I turned away as he typed in his code, and his door slid open.

I couldn't help but peek. The bed was draped in a sky blue with sakura painted on. A small altar sat to one side, dragon figurines and a fat red jade buddha and a placard for incense. I waited in the hall, not hearing an invitation, and he deposited his gift to one side, removing his jacket and hanging it up, nice and neat. I saw a shelf of movies and another of books, and his kimono hung up with care with his storm bow. He returned to me, eyes watchful, and I cleared my throat.

He closed the door behind him.

"Gee. Maybe next time we use yours. Mine ain't half so organized."

He smiled. "Maybe next time."

I wanted to reach out to him, tug on his beard, or that little pony tail of his, or at a loop of those dark denim jeans he was wearing...

He tilted his head at me, bemused. And I realized I was supposed to be leading the way now.

" _Right_. Sorry." I shook my head, and nodded in no particular direction. "Um, it's this way."

He followed, half a step behind me, and I realised he was only a smidge shorter than me. A few inches at most. And then I reckoned it could be a little less than that if I were wearing heeled boots.

I caught myself before I acted the fool and checked to see if my boots had heels. Fucking high school.

We turn the corner, and I lean out to see if Angela is still spying on me. He laughs next to me, a quiet sound and I smile at him.

"Sorry," I said soft, leaning to him. "Angie's been spyin' on me all day." I type in my code.

"You pissed everyone off," he repeated, playfully rolling his eyes as I typed.

"Yeah, well..." I gave a bit of a bow, gesturing into my space with arm outstretched (...did I have to use that one?) and then shut the door. He looked about, storm eyes flickering over my Johnny Cash poster... and I sighed.

"Sorry, he ah..." I gestured to the bird he had flying. "Had a bad show. You know."

But he just smiled at me, those storm eyes glinting. "I think it suits you." He turned about and found the sake, and he lifted it up.

"I have a Clint Eastwood at home," I say, trying desperately to make conversation. " _The Good, Bad & the Ugly_." I bit my lip, feeling like an idiot.

He smiled at me over his shoulder. "Clint Eastwood, I know him."

I blinked. "Personally?"

"No." He laughed. "I mean, I know who that is." He looked to the poster. "I know who that is, too."

"Well, I should hope so," I teased, smiling. "That's Johnny Cash. Man in black."

"'Don't Take Your Guns To Town'," he said. "Or, ah... 'Cadillac'? Where he steals the car...?"

"'One Piece At A Time', yeah," I nod. "That's a good one."

"Or... 'Boy Named Sue'."

I grimaced. "That's a foul one."

He nodded. And his smile saddened. "It made me think of Genji. For a long time." He sighed. "We were raised to be tough boys." I watched him work the wrapper, his long fingers strong and sure, and I felt my mind going back to Maria's... And how strongly I had believed the lie.

"Your brother." I cleared my throat. "We're good friends, but... You're his brother. It's different."

He nodded, crumpling the wrapper in his hand and putting it in his pocket. "Even when we were young... There are things I was expected to do. As firstborn. He cannot protect me from those things." He twisted the cap, and smelled the wine, his eyes closing. "He told you this was my favourite, didn't he?"

I swallowed, but moved closer. Close enough to reach out and touch him, or to take the wine from him. "Yeah. Pretty specific."

He nodded. And he leaned to pour the drinks... his feet not actually moving away from me. A tease of flesh appeared between the edge of his shirt and the edge of his pants.

Something dark in me wanted to reach in and touch. To _grab,_  to claw... He set the bottle down and leaned back with the two glasses. His eyes saw mine, and I saw thunder flash over them. He handed me a glass.

"To you, McCree-san," he said, holding his glass for a toast. "For your safe return."

I shook my head, but raised a glass as well. "To you, Hanzo. For many happy returns of your own."

We clinked, and we sipped. It was wine, alright. A strange sour rice blend, but there was that... light sweetness to it that seemed to be in everything that was Hanzo. I smacked my lips. "That's not half bad."

He nodded. "It is on the sweet end. Usually... sake is more sour. But if you drink it _hot_  in the winters..." He shook his head, fingers clutching the glass to his breast. "It is a wonderful feeling."

...I imagine him in a hot tub, cool winter air, log cabin, sipping sake and smiling like that, all red-faced and contented. I _want_  it. I down my glass, and put it back on the table, and I sit down, sighing heavily. I remove my hat and rifle my hand through my hair.

He turns towards me, eyes watching me. And when I look up at him, my face is all squished by my hand.

"Hanzo..." I whisper, looking up at him. Nicely groomed hair, storm cloud eyes, strong hands holding something so deliciate with such care and affection... "You drive me fucking crazy."

He bows his head, bashful. His thumbs toy with the glass. "You keep saying that." His eyes look up at me, wanting to understand. "I do not know what that means."

"Me being crazy?"

He shakes his head. "How I am making you crazy." I feel my chest seize up as he sits down beside me, our knees touching. "What do you mean when you say that? What is it I am doing?"

I rub my fingers in my eyes. "...Nothin'. Anything." I sighed. "Like just now. You talkin' about hot sake in the winter..." I blink out into my room. "My brain goes to... winter nights. Hot tub..." I look at him sideways. "You. Sitting in the rumbling water, relaxing. That soft smile of yours and a glass of wine in one hand."

His smile widens, and it's the goofiest fucking thing, and I just want to slap it off of him. Or kiss it off of him. Or take a picture of it so I can keep it forever, because it is just too beautiful to be real. "That makes you crazy?"

"Or when you talk about shibari... and all I can think of is you... arms bound behind you beautiful black rope, a ladder from your biceps down along your spine... And you looking at me over your shoulder with those eyes of yours..."

I look to him, and his smile has dimmed... but his eyes are burning. They're staring at my lips.

"...and I wonder. If that's something you would like. If you _want_  me to tie you up. Say all manner of rude and disgraceful things... Just maybe not where your brother can hear."

He is moving towards me, and my heart is racing a mile a minute.

"You would not dare," he whispers.

"Wouldn't I?"

It's taking everything in my power not to wrap my hand around his throat and take him right now... I lick my lips, and I watch him shiver.The door knocks.

"Mother f--" I bite my tongue and stand, my body protesting in more ways than one, and I slap a palm to open the door.

It's Genji. And I feel my blood go cold and what growing erection I had vanishes.

"Ah! Jesse. I know you were looking for Hanzo, and--" He stops, his head tilting to look past me. I glance over my shoulder and Hanzo is giving him a big smile, holding up the wine and a thumbs up. Genji chuckles. "Oh, never mind, you found him."

"Good pick!" Hanzo says. "I did not know if you remembered."

"Oh, please. How could I forget?" He looks to me. "I spent a good week and a half trying to find it again. I will remember it forever."

I tried to smile, but it felt menacing. "I had a picture."

"You're welcome," he said. "And you." He waved to his brother, and Hanzo waved back again. He said something in Japanese, and Hanzo answered back. Genji chuckled. Then he punched me in the shoulder.

"OW!"

"That's what you get for missing my brother's birthday, cowboy."

"You know, I did go through Gauntlet today!" I said after him. "Is that not enough for anybody?"

"I'm still gonna kick your ass later," he added, without turning around.

I sighed, and shut the door. When I turned back to Hanzo he was giggling.

I smirked. "How many glasses of wine have you had today?"

"Umm.." He touched his fingers to his lips. "This is five."

" _Five?_ " He giggled again, and I sat back down beside him, one arm behind him, leg against his. "Goodness. Ana gave you a treat, huh?"

"I think she likes me," he admitted, and his eyes looking at me over his shoulder sparkled, still dark... Which helped mine darken, too.

"Are you enjoying the fact that your brother almost walked in on us?"

"What do you mean?" he asked, in an innocent tone I did not believe. "The door is locked."

I chuckled. I touched a hand to his shirt... trailing down his arm. He squirmed ever so slightly as my skin touched his, following it to his wrist... "You really like sake, don't you?"

He nodded, taking another sip. And when he put it back in his lap, he leaned back into me. He hummed softly. "Hey. Cowboy?"

I trailed my fingers over the broad skin of his arm, watching it prickle with goosebumps. "Yeah?"

"I have not been told today."

I breathed a laugh into his ear. He was so close... My fingers squeezed over his skin, and I nuzzled his ear. "Would you like to be told?"

"Very much." He closed his eyes to listen.

"Darlin'..." I moved that hand to his throat, and he tilted his head back. I could see him swallow. "You... are fucking gorgeous." I could see his breathing thin, and I pressed a kiss to his temple. His face twisted, but it was an expression of longing. "And... I really wish I wasn't all beat to hell right now."

He gave a small whine in his throat, eyes flashing open and looking to me.

"...Because I would love to do terrible things to you right now," I said.

He closed his eyes again, and I shifted uncomfortably behind him. Both hands to his, shoulders, and he stiffened as I moved him, sighing as I brought him back on my other shoulder. He looked up at me, but I didn't let go.

"You are in... a lot of pain?" he asked, concern tainting his voice.

"Quite a lot," I said, not looking him in the eye. He sat up off me, and I felt cold. My hands fell to his hips. He turned to me, and my hands moved to my lap.

He looked so... casual. Cartoon t-shirt, jeans, glass of wine. I realized also that at some point he'd taken his shoes off. I wondered if he'd done it all the way back at his place and I just hadn't noticed.

"Jesse-san... You must rest." It seemed to pain him to say it, and I smiled.

"I should," I agreed. "I will."

"I will go," he said. He rose, and moved to my bedside table.

"You don't have to," I said.

He smiled back at me. He leaned forward. And he plucked up my hat from beside me. I watched him turn it in his hands, his fingers touching the leather, testing it, fingers brushing over the bullets and decal on the front. "...Are these real?"

"Back up," I answered.

He nodded... And then he turned it upside down, and touched the inside of it, the cloth stitched inside, stains of use. And he brought it to his face and took a good long drink of it, breathing it in.

I swallowed hard. I didn't know you could make that erotic, but dagum.

He spun it in his fingers, and then he put it on his own head, reaching back to pull out the tie that held the ponytail together. His smile got bigger as it fell down around his eyes, and he tilted it back proper.

I was speechless. His hair came down to his shoulders, a little crinkled where it had been tied, but it looked soft as silk. "How do I look?" he asked, arms on his hips.

"God damn beautiful," I answered. "I'd say you could keep it, but..." I shrugged. "I think that would cause a panick."

He laughed, and pulled it off, turning it in his hands again. When he smiled at me like that, it made him look half his age. "It is a nice hat."

"Thank you." I didn't know what else to say.

He leaned forward and put it back on my head. I touched my hand to it and his lingered on my shoulders, featherlight. "Hey, cowboy. Have you been told today?"I shook my head. "I have not."

"Baby..." He teased the hat, tilting it higher so he could lean in to tease his nose against mine, and my heart was racing. "You are so... beautiful."

His lips touched mine, and I leaned up to join him. My arm went round him, and I pulled him closer. I groaned in pain as his hands tightened on reflex, and his weight came to rest on a number of bruises, but I held him anyway. I sucked on a lip and he gasped, and when I worried it with my teeth, he moaned ever so softly into me. His hands tightened again, and the hand I had on his back clawed.

His eyes opened, black as sin, and I let go as he leaned back. I swear, he _hissed_  at me through clenched teeth, hands twisting into my shirt.

He muttered something in Japanese under his breath, I let out a breath, gently pulling his claws from my shirt.

"Listen here, dragon-man," I said, teeth grinding together. "You're sittin' on about five different injuries right now, and you're gonna rip my stitches."

"I don't care." There was an evil twist to his lips, and my heart dropped into my stomach. In fact, his legs moved over me to straddle, and I whimpered as he shifted a bandage.

"...I won't lie, that's pretty hot," I growled. I hugged him close as he crushed his lips against mine, and angry teeth, sharper than they ought to be, tugged at my lip with cruel abandon. I could feel him through my shirt, and I know he could feel me, because his hips started to grind - I wasn't sure what got my heart pounding more, the sharp red of pain from my injuries or the dull crimson of growing heat. My hands slipped over his pants, under that shirt, and I found skin. He gasped when metal fingers scraped against his skin, knowing it wasn't causing him much pain, short of being a strange temperature. But I used my nails for the other one, and he hissed at me again.

I gave a lazy smile, teeth still clenched as I watched him, a snarl to his lips, and then those eyes looked into mine again.

"You are a mess of trouble," I said.

"The dragon hungers," he replied.

I nodded, drunk off of him... "I see that." I squeezed at an ass cheek, and he arched, ever so slightly. "Be honest. Do you not care about the wounds, or does that help you out?"

He hesitated, and I shifted my hips under him. He braced, and those fingers spread out, moving over my chest. I saw him work his jaw, considering his answer. "...I am not sure."

"But you don't care," I said.

He sat back, doubt in his eyes. "Is that wrong?"

"Just interesting." I squeezed his hips and shifted forward. He leaned back, and I grit my teeth as he sat back on a bruise. I reached behind me, muscling through the pain, and I pulled off my shirts. I let out a deep breath and groan in doing so, and then leaned back again, panting softly from the exertion.

His eyes poured over me, fingers gliding gently over bandages, some spotting already. Ugly purple bruises and cuts covered in sad lines of band-aids. He smirked. "You did some of this yourself." It wasn't a question.

"They weren't kind to me," I said. I moved my hands to his hips, teasing my fingers in to his skin.

He squirmed, and I tensed feeling him against me. One of his hands found a bruise and pressed gently -- I gasped, and groaned. He pressed on another wound and I gasped.

"...You like the pain," he said. Again, it wasn't a question. But oh, the evil little chuckle he gave me... "Interesting."

"I feel like... A Shimada... Is kinda like a wild stallion." His hands ventured over me. "You won't be easy to break, but when I do... You'll be mine forever."

He snorted. "Break? How dare you." This time it was his hands on _my_  neck, and I clenched, hands clawing at his hips. But I realized... he was doing it right. Just enough to scare the brain, but not to do damage. _Sweet Lord, he's fucking perfect,_  I thought. "You do not break a Shimada. No one does."

I smirked. "Right about now is when you smack me."

His eyes widened, and his head reared back. "You are sassing me."

"Damn straight." I grinned. He squeezed and I groaned, but the grin didn't die. "I take it you've done this part before."

"They didn't enjoy it at the time," he answered. And then his lips are on mine, and hot damn, it was like he was trying to _eat_  me. He shoved me on the wall, and I had to stifle a disrespectful laugh, as he leaned back and _ripped_  off one of my bindings. I cried out in pain, blinding white and red, and _then_  he slapped me.

"You are trouble yourself, cowboy."

As if I could be more in love.

"Marry me," I whispered. Something I had always said to Maria, and she had always known I was joking.

Hanzo snorted. "As if I would marry you. Uncultured American. Can't even appreciate fine sake." But his hands are unbuckling me, and sure, strong hands are ripping it out from around me, and then he is tossing it over his shoulder. "Anyone who has to profess he is a bad-ass mother fucker is not one."

"That's just hurtful." But grabs me by my shoulders and puts me down in the bed.

"I am going to hurt you more than that," he said, his eyes like the calm in the heart of the storm. You thought you had it, you thought it was over, but there's a lot more where that came from. He rose over me, pulling at my jeans, and I let him, my heart racing.

 _He's beautiful_. I watch him toss them aside, like a bullfighter might his red cape, and then he is back. Claws scratch at my skin as he pulls off my boxers, too.

And I let him. Oh, god, I let him.

"Look at you. You are a mess," he said, gesturing to me. "You are a wild mess. Talk about breaking broncos." He climbed over me again, seating above my groin, and his hands find places to lean on without bruises. "You dare say you will break me. Who is the one on top of who?"

My eyes are sparkling, and I think I could cry. "You are."

"That is right. The Dragon has mastered the Cowboy. You remember this." And he reaches for that bruise again, squeeze. I let out a sound between a whimper of pain and one of pleasure.

"I figured we would take turns..." And he slaps me again. It is hard enough to make a satisfying sound that makes my cock twitch, but he has picked a spot _not_  covered in cuts.

"You figure? You think too much. Right now you are mine. You do not think."

"Yes, sir." It rings in my throat, like it's almost afraid to get out.

He's beautiful. And fierce. Sharp, mean eyes that rage like the storm. There is a calmness to them that is... mind-blowing. There is a stillness to his features as he holds the reigns... And damn it, it's fucking beautiful, I say again.

And without another word, he rises. He grabs his glass and downs his drink, and gives me a dismissive glance. He takes the bottle of sake and returns the top.

"The Dragon accepts your gift. You will live another day."

"W-what?"

He gives me that cruel, evil, wicked smile and slaps open my door.

"Hey, wait!"

And then it shuts. I am left, cold and hard and naked, arm outstretched to a cruel and hungry beast who... could devour me without a thought.

I shivered. _Damn,_  that's hot.

I sit back in my pillow and let out a breath. _The technical term is 'orgasm control',_  I think to myself. Deprivation tactics. Great for torture... Or for sex. You know, if you're into that kind of thing.

I breathe in and out again. My fingers search for the binding he ripped off, and I gingerly reapply it.

_The dragon hungers._

I shiver, and take a hand to myself, safe in my bed, and I use all of the newfound material to torture myself a little more...

But in my world, I take great pleasure in fighting that dragon down and returning the favour. Which makes it all the more rewarding when he breaks for me.


	17. Borscht

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A challenge is issued, a dynamic shifts. Forbidden desires are now hidden in plain sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently I ship Angela/Reinhardt? That's apparently a thing.

When I come down for dinner, ungodly early, freshly fucked with and laundered, I can't help the smile on my lips. It doesn't stop Angela from giving me the dirtiest look, but I don't have it in me to correct her.

"McCree!" Reinhardt has the reins for dinner. I don't see anyone assisting him. "Come here."

"What can I do for ya?"

He nodded to the kitchen. "Morisson said you're to take kitchen duty with me."

I open my mouth... "Oh. Um. Okay. Sure. Let me just..." I take off my hat, and tuck it to the side. I wash my hands, watching him. "What's for dinner?"

"Borscht," he answered with a smile. "It's actually a Russian dish, but Angie asked it special."

I look over at Mercy, whose eyes flit from him to me and narrow. I can hear her 'hmph!' in my mind and I smile.

"I haven't had borscht in a long time."

"Ah! So you know this dish! Excellent."

I help him dice onions and potatoes as he browns up the meat. They always give me the chopping these days, I blow through it pretty quickly with my mechanised hand. Settings can get weird.

Angela peeks her head over the counter. "McCree, you should be wearing a glove with that thing."

"I washed it," I told her.

She made a face. "I don't believe you."

"I did!"

"I did watch him wash it," Reinhardt said.

"Doc... It's stainless steel." I flipped the blade in hand and caught it easily, but she still flinched away. "It's practically the same thing as the knife. It's fine."

She didn't seem convinced. She leaned closer. "Did you take care of the... You know." She gestured with a nod.

I raised a brow. "Take care of...?"

" _You know_ ," she whispered, looking to make sure no one else had walked in. Which they hadn't. She looked back at me with a scowl. "The _bugs_."

"The bugs," I echoed. I blinked at her.

She growled. "You know what I mean."

I gave her another moment... and then my eyes widened. "OH! Those bugs!"

She throw a napkin at me and I laughed. " _Gozitsa_."

"Angie, I was fucking with you." I tossed the napkin aside. I continued cutting. "Seriously. If that were the case, I would have been /naked/ and vacuuming everything. Hell, my truck would be on fire. I grew up with that shit, I can't stand those things."

She eye me sideways. "Really?"

"Darlin', you don't join up a biker gang when things are going _well_. Okay?"

She shuffled her lips. "Alright. I was _worried_ , you know."

"Yeah. I know. Everyone seems to think I went to get myself killed or something."

"You missed a _birthday_ ," she said. "That's so unlike you."

I deflated at that. "Yeah, well... It's a new birthday. I hadn't gotten around to looking."

Her eyes took on a touch of pity. "...It was soon."

"And also, you'll remember me and the Shimadas weren't on good terms." I took a bite of onion from the knife and chewed on it.

"True... HEY. You better wash that."

I wiggled my eyebrows at her and continued cutting.

"That is so unsanitary!"

"Angela, _please_. It's going to be boiled within an inch of its life. It'll be _fine_."

She was looking at me like I was the walking plague... and I smirked.

"You are disgusting," she said finally, marching out of the galley. "Reinhardt, he's your problem now."

"Thank you, Angel!" he called.

I shook my head, sliding a batch of onions into one bowl, separate from the potatoes. "Alright, big guy. What else am I slicing?"

We worked companionably, small talk and updates, and yes, he too expressed concern for me 'missing a birthday'. I confided that I had been a bit strung out lately, the work and claustrophobia getting in on me, and I just had to... decompress, you know? Get out. Go get laid. He laughed, knowingly.

"Oh, laddie, I hear you. Especially in a job like this one. The pressure will build up until you start popping at everyone."

"Like Genji... And Angie. And Ana."

He hummed. "Ana Amari is not the one you want to pop off at. Or Angela Ziegler. Or Genji Shimada."

"I don't think there's anyone in Overwatch you want to pop off at," I added, the phrase feeling weird on my tongue.

"That is the truth! But I know Ana... She will slap you around, eh? Heheh!"

He gave me a chummy elbow, and I chuckled. "Yeah. She's like a mom and an ex-girlfriend in one. And a mother-in-law."

He laughed. "Ah, but she does it cos she loves you, kid." He smiled at me. "We all care about you. And we worry for you."

"Well, shucks," I said, leaning on the counter, watching him stir in his spices. "It's nice to be loved, I guess."

"Yeah. And painful sometimes, right?"

I tugged at my collar to show a wound. "Here they actually beat you up when you fuck up."

He chuckled. "Ah, that's just you. They know it's what you respond to"

I shrugged. "That's fair." I sipped a cup of coffee, and watched as people started milling in. I saw Mei and Fareeha grab a table, and then Hana bounce in behind them. Not too long after, Lucio came in, mid conversation with Lena. I hollered when it was ready ("SOOOUUEY! SUEY SUEY!" Lena looked like she wanted to throw something at me sharp and lethal) and Angela magickally appeared out of nowhere. Reinhardt started ladelling the stew, and I offered sour cream and chives to go with, and drinks. A guard came to collect meals for Winston and Morrisson in their own labs, and somewhere around 1930, the Shimada brothers came in.

He looked so innocent, like he hadn't just been a ferocious monster on top of me. Like it hadn't happened. And as I carried a hot bowl of soup in each hand, I almost wondered if it had.

Then his eyes locked with mine, and that smug smirk, almost a sneer, slipped over his lips.

"Evenin', boys," I said. "Genji, you wanna try some soup?"

He regarded it. "...It's purple."

"It's beets," I told him. I looked to Hanzo. "Sour cream and chives on yours, darlin'?"

He nodded. I set to serving him a generous (and pretty-looking) portion, and slid it over. "Iced tea, yeah?"

His expression was something like, 'What do you think?' I waited to see if he would say it out loud, but he didn't. He just waited.

"...Alright." I turned to the fridge and pulled out his usual pitcher, and a tall glass to fill it with. I handed it over, and I heard Genji chuckle.

"Oniisan. All this birthday spoiling has you getting all teethsome." He slapped him on the shoulder. "Is good to see my brother again."

"I am _Master_  of the Shimada Clan," he said, preening, and never have I seen him more a dragon. "It is only right that everyone knows it."

The giggled amongst themselves, as if it were an inside joke, and it made me shiver.

 _I am Master. It is only right everyone should know it,_  was what I heard.

It was less than subtle, and I didn't care to being upstaged like that. Even subtly.

"Hey, Shimada."

They both turned to me, but Hanzo's eyes glittered.

"So I heard I missed a sharpshooter competition Saturday night. How'd it go?"

I knew how it went. I saw the scoreboard when I was checking to see if he was there this morning.

"Oh. I won, of course," he answered, sipping his tea. "Never second best."

I smirked. "Yeah. Damn shame I wasn't there. Doesn't seem fair."

"Oh, but Ana was there. She is better than you, isn't she?"

_Oh, I wanted to slap that smirk off his face..._

"...How about you and me train together sometime. One on one."

He scoffed... but his eyes darkened, chewing his lip. "One on one?"

"Haha! You could never beat my big brother!"

I shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe not. Won't know if we don't give it a solid effort."

 _What are you doing?_  his eyes asked me.

"Ah, Oniisan, you can take him," Genji said. "I would put money on it."

"Uh oh," Reinhardt called from behind me. "I hear a wager being made."

"No way, man!" Lucio showed up, looking between me and Hanzo with a big grin. "Guys! McCree is challenging Hanzo!"

"Haven't you guys fought enough?" Fareeha protested. "Mama will not be pleased."

"Just a friendly wager," I said, eyes staying on Hanzo.

His eyes narrowed at me, trying to figure out the why... But he held out a hand. "Single combat. First to... five games?"

I shrugged. "Five wins sounds like a good run." I took it.

His hand was warm, strong, solid.

"Good! I am making some money off of you at last," Genji said, and he left his brother to sit.

"Alright, place your bets! I'm keeping tabs, I got this."

"Shove off, Lucio! Give it here!"

Reinhardt chuckled behind me. "Good job, Jess. Now they'll be nuts."

But I still had my hand in his. I leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. When I looked up at him, his eyes were storm clouds.

"Five wins," he said, withdrawing.

"Winner buys drinks," I offered.

" _Dinner_ ," he said, and god... I wanted to slap him. AND kiss him. "You will buy me dinner."

I nodded. "Very well."

He nodded as well, and took his bowl to sit with his brother.

I took a deep breath, watching him, and Reinhardt served each of us a bowl.

"Last call!" he hollered.

"Geeet yer drinks!" I added. "Hurry up, ya lazy nonces! Ya don't have to go home, but you can't stay here."

"Shut up, Jesse!" Lena called. "You better lose, or you're paying me back."

"Gambling is a sin," I answered. "Right, Mercy?"

Angela looked up, mouth full of borscht. "Hmm?"

Reinhardt just laughed. "She is so precious."

She blushed, smiling over at him. She put down her spoon and made heart hands to him. He blew her a kiss, and I smiled.

My heart was full. Like it had a bowl of borscht of its own. And as I watched Reinhardt, beast of a man as he was, sit next to the tall and lithe (and, in a certain light, rather lovely) Mercy, I felt my heart ache with a want that... didn't hurt as bad as it had only a couple days ago.

I took my bowl to where Hana and Fareeha were chattering with Hanzo, and when I grumped at Fareeha to scooch over, she did so with only a little protest.

Maybe no one else saw him put his hand on my knee, or mine squeezing his. Normal banter carried an undertone of tease and pull. He'd get close, and then move away. Not from fear, but from his own desire to leave me wanting. I liked this more... public expression of the dark, temptress side of him. The side that called me Cowboy and stole my hat, and whispered empty promises of shibari that were my own responsibility to fill. Genji did not question it, content only that we were 'getting along finally'. And there was, of course, chatter about the challenge I had issued, the parameters, who would watch it, who would judge it, and the bets Lucio was collecting.

When I looked sideways at Reinhardt, with his arm low and loose around Angela, and the way she leaned into him, it was a sweet ache. It made me slide a hand into the back of his shirt, cool as the metal was, and relish the way his back arched.

Maybe I do think too much. I should just be his and be done with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you liked this, you should read "Rising Star" next, and then all the rest of the #McHanzo fics. Blackwatch is a special beauty, and she references a bunch more.
> 
> ALSO, I am a starving artist, and need love. Go to Patreon.com/LoonyMoonyProductions to help me pay rent so I can keep writing stuff like this. It also tells you about my original works and artwork and other cool things I'm doing!


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